Tuesday, September 8, 2009
At the beginning of the summer, we signed Bob up for swimming classes at the YMCA. For 40 minutes every Saturday morning, Bob would cling to Jeff in the shallow end of the pool while yelling, “No! No! I don’t want to blow bubbles! The water tastes bad! It’s time to go home! I don’t like it! I don’t like it! I can’t like it!”
We took to calling them “screaming lessons.” After four Saturdays we stopped and decided to try again next year.
Last week, our friends were visiting from Chicago for a few days. We met up with them at their hotel pool. Everyone in the water but Bob. He stood at the edge and threw a beach ball back and forth with Jeff, but would get upset with all the splashing and was concerned that his bathing suit might get damp.
I left the pool to retrieve more sunscreen for the guys but when I returned, could not see them. I scanned the large pool deck and finally spied Jeff and Bob in the Jacuzzi. It was a breakthrough. Bob was actually in the water and appeared to be enjoying himself.
“Wow Bob! Look at you!”
“Mama, come in. It has such nice little bubbles.”
Thus proving that Bob Rosenberg is fast on his way to becoming a little old Jewish man.