Wednesday, April 7, 2010

FYI: NOT A Cougar

Most parents don’t yell during swim lessons.

I do.

Like when Tommy swims across the pool I’ll clap and shout, “Go Tommy!”

Most parents stare at me like I have a third boob on the top of my head.

Tommy struggles with diving down to the bottom of the pool and retrieving a foam brick. So when he finally did this, I clapped and yelled, “Great job! WOOHOO!” And again, the parents gaped at me as though I had just whipped off my shirt and twirled it around my head.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to shout,” I giggled to the man beside me.

He was pecking on his Blackberry. “Mmmm,” he answered but it was obvious he was barely paying attention.

I still yell though. Tommy likes it. He’ll turn around and give me the biggest smile.

Sometimes I’ll have to remind Tommy to focus. He has a habit of going off into Tommy Land in the middle of class. For instance, his swim instructor was going over some swim rules and I saw Tommy’s head whip in the other direction. He’s sort of like JD on Scrubs. I mean, I can’t blame him, I tend to go off into my own world when I’m bored.

“Focus Tommy!” I’ll call out.

He’ll jump slightly and then turn back to his teacher.

Speaking of his teacher, I had been curious on how old the guy was. Not because I was interested or anything. I mean, yeah, the guy is okay looking but I also figured he had to be pretty young. I mulled this over on the way home from swim lessons last week and was all, “I wonder how old your teacher is?” not thinking much of it.

But then I guess Tommy asked his teacher how old he was. I think he said something like, “My Mom wants to know how old you are.” Which is embarrassing in itself because the guy is probably all, “Um?”

But he told Tommy because Tommy shouted from the pool, “Mom! My teacher is SEVENTEEN! Did you get that? HE’S SEVENTEEN?”

Now the rest of the parents were staring at me as though I were Mary Kay Letourneau.

“I was just curious,” I mumbled into my lap.

Geez seventeen though. I could be his MOTHER! Well, not really. But since I’m 27 whenever I hear someone is a teenager the first thought that comes into my head is, “I could be his MOTHER.” Obviously this couldn’t be true, unless I popped a kid out when I was ten. But still. I couldn’t stop thinking that Tommy’s teacher was born AFTER the movie My Girl came out. Yikes. He was a zygote.

And he was currently pretending like he was drowning because they were going over how to save a drowning swimmer.

Tommy….erm….he started to go off into Tommy Land and I was all, “Tommy! Save your teacher!” and of course the parents probably thought, “Yeah, she wants her kid to save him so she can seduce him,” and I wanted to be all, “NO, I could NEVER, I just don’t want my kid to let his teacher fake drown and be the laughing stock of his class.”

Tommy eventually made it out to his teacher and tossed him the floater device. It nearly smacked him in the face. He’s not a gentle savior, apparently.

Then he had to simulate giving the teacher CPR and I could hear Tommy say, “You want me to do WHAT?”

When class was over I could see Tommy saying something to his teacher. I sucked in my breath. Please nothing embarrassing… Then Tommy shouted,

“He’s in HIGH SCHOOL! TWELTH GRADE!”

Tommy is obsessed with finding out what grade people are in. I wanted to explain to everyone, “My son has Aspergers, he becomes fixated on certain things and finding out what grade people are in is just one of his fixations. One of his FIXATIONS, I say. Nothing more.”

Now I can’t look his teacher in the eye because he’s probably all, “She wants to stick her hand down my swim trunk.”

No, no, NO!

I am NOT a cougar!

Tommy mercifully came back over to me and I handed him his towel.

“My teacher is seventeen, did you hear?” Tommy said loudly. There were still other parents around, drying off their kids.

“I did. That’s great,” I said, gathering our things so we could GO.

“Michael Phelps is twenty four. Michael Phelps is not in high school. Michael Phelps took lessons just like me,” Tommy prattled on. He’s become a little obsessed with Michael Phelps ever since he learned that he won eight gold medals in the Olympics.

I could hear a parent giggle behind me. Now she was probably thinking, “What’s with this mother wanting to seduce all these swimmers?”

I think Tom will be bringing Tommy to next Monday’s swim lessons.

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