A relaxing day at the pool

It’s summertime, and my daughter and I have made a trip to the south and a visit with mom. Its 120 degrees in the shade there, so I’ve packed the swim suit.

Mom has joined the local gym and suggests hitting the pool to keep cool. It does seem like a nice way to spend some quality time with my mother while beating the heat. I ask my daughter if she would like to come and bond with Grandma but she declines, adding something about “hot spots” in the pool water.

I am ready to spend the morning leisurely floating around the pool.

Besides, just how difficult can it possibly be? The over-70 set in a pool shouldn’t be too stressful. I grab my suit and towel and jump in the car.

I should have been suspicious when I saw my mother, who was dressed in her age-appropriate swimsuit, grab a huge tote bag from the back of her car. It was loaded with all kinds of vitamin-enhanced water bottles, hand floats and rather large pink Styrofoam thing called a swimming noodle.

“You don’t have your own equipment so you can borrow some from the Y. Now step it up... the class starts at 9:00.”

My mother is now scaring me.

The pool is packed with seniors all holding onto their noodles. I am sent to the slacker area to borrow one. Once in the pool, I am mindful of my daughter’s last warning.

“Ladies and gentlemen, are you all ready?” The instructor immediately notices that there is a stranger in his group.

“Hey there, missy,” (that would be me), “introduce yourself.”

I say my name and all of the seniors wave their noodles in acceptance.

“Grab your weights and let’s begin.”

My mother has left me in the dust at this point.

She didn’t mention that the instructor was an ex-Marine. “Missy! Pick up the pace. Now get your noodle!”

I grab the noodle only to see that the 80-year-old next to me is already balancing on it and spinning around.

“Turn and spin, turn and spin. Missy, you are going the wrong way.”

I am only glad my kid isn’t here to witness this.

I try to balance, really I do, but my entire DNA has settled in my derriere. My noodle is wildly popping out of the water, and I almost take out a 90-year-old.

“Missy! You need to go to the back of the pool until you can control your noodle!”

I have been sent to the back of the pool. I am a disgrace to my 73-year-old mother. I can’t be trusted with a noodle.

Do you know that you can build up a sweat in water? Well, you can, and I can’t seem to keep my noodle submerged.

Oh joy, the rest of the class is now spinning with their hands in the air to some kind of synchronized swimming move. My mother with her curly red hair and age-appropriate swimming suit is leading the pack. Her slacker daughter has been sentenced to the back of the pool with the 90-year-olds.

My mom, the swimming diva, seeing my distress, hands me vitamin water.

“Now, you know I love you, honey, but you should probably sit out the next class baby since it’s “Kicking for Better Buns.”

I’m thinking that she is right.

- Diane Butler