Throwing people in the pool

Last night at a party a girl came at my son to throw him in the pool. I know this girl. She is a perfect girl, and she was being playful.

My son is strong, and he is a capable wrestler. She didn’t stand  a chance.

He spun around and threw her in instead. He does not understand his strength, I think, or when to temper it. She got hurt.

I wasn’t there, but I’m understanding she slapped the water flat, and face down.

This reminds me of yet another moment from my childhood I have never gotten over.

We used to celebrate Easter every year at my Uncle Junior’s house. I don’t know why we call him Junior. His name is Bill, and his father was a Korean immigrant, whose name sounded nothing like Bill.

I wore my suit, but only to sit on the step. I never learned how to swim, and was afraid of the water. Specifically, I was afraid of putting my head under.

One year my Uncle Hot Shot grabbed me from the lawn area and started running toward the water. I screamed for all I was worth. He laughed and hurled my tiny flailing body into the deep end.

Chlorinated water burns when you gulp and inhale it. I remember not knowing which direction was up, and feeling my hands go numb. They do that when I panic.

At some point I made it to the edge of the pool. When I got my lungs working, I yelled at Hot Shot. “I hate you! I hate you so much!”

My mother, who was on a lounge chair poolside, fully clothed, turned beet red and started yelling at me.

I got in big trouble.

Now that I’m a mother, I’m more upset with her than Hot Shot. In fact, knowing Hot Shot, I’m sure he saw I was on my own, and was making an effort to include me in the antics. He may have thought my screaming and kicking was part of the game, but my mother knew I couldn’t swim. A word from her to stop him would have carried some weight.

And afterward, a little understanding toward me would not have come amiss.

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6 Responses to “Throwing people in the pool”

  1. fred bauman Says:

    When I was six the family went on vacation to a lovely spot in the Italian Dolomites. The hotel, in tiny Molveno, was at an Alpine lake which was glacier fed but warm in the summer. I will never forget when my father threw me into the lake off a boat dock behind the hotel. I had not learned to swim yet but that wasn’t my biggest problem. My biggest problem was getting out of the sack!

  2. T. Says:

    I’ll bet you long for problems like that, Fred, now that your biggest problem is that nobody is trying to get you into the sack.

  3. rhonda Says:

    If someone did that to one of my girls, I would have ended up in jail.

  4. roberto Says:

    I do not agree with Rhonda’s solution. Your mother was correct not to murder or otherwise criminally assault your uncle Hot Shot.

  5. rhonda Says:

    I had a similar experience as a child. When I was about 4, I had an uncle hold me over the edge of a boat speeding around a lake. I hated that guy for years. As a teenager, I worked for him, and he really was a sadistic b*st*rd. But, I am very glad that Dianne is not in prison. 🙂

  6. Noisy Quiet Says:

    Didn’t you post a while back that you’d blogged for a year and that was IT? 😉

    Wish I had time to read through everything. FWIW, I’m mad at your mom now too 😛

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