In the swim

When I was around six years old – at my parents’ insistence – I started swimming lessons. I had been in the water a lot previously and could effectively doggy-paddle, but my parents were keen for me to learn actual techniques. To my mind, the water was a place for fun and splashing around, not for boring lessons about swimming strokes and talks about safety.

And so, for the first time in my little life, I intentionally misbehaved in class. Whilst still a desperate, approval-seeking teacher’s pet in school and music lessons, I started to ignore instructions, misbehave and generally disrupt my swimming lessons. Eventually my instructor reached the end of his tether. 

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