Ms. Wet would like to emphasize that this is ONLY LESSON 5!
Even after a week of nightmares in which giant barges sink to the depths of the pool, never to surface again, Ms. Wet arrives at Lesson 5 determined to continue. Ms. Dangerous, on the other hand, arrives ready and eager to dive into the deep end, her bravado strengthened by her compatriot's anxiety.
Ms. Wet convinces Instructor C to compromise and start the diving lesson at 5.5 feet. (Yes, we know that is too shallow for diving, but Ms. Wet isn't going any deeper.) At the same time, Ms. Dangerous loses a bit of her courage, as she has detailed mental pictures of striking her head on the bottom of the pool.
Before they even enter the water, Instructor C starts the lesson with a dive.
Where is our warm up? thinks Ms. Wet.
Instructor C leaps off the side of the pool with perfection, diving arms-first into the water and torpedoing out under the lane dividers. "See how easy that is?" she asks cheerfully, "Now it's your turn!"
Ms. Wet bravely offers to go first. She takes two dives from a kneeling position, rolling into the pool arms first. Still, she struggles to keep her head down between her arms, instinctive self-preservation causing her to lift it at the last second. This leads to enormous pressure on her sinuses every time she hits the water. "It's burning behind my eyes!" she gasps.
Ms. Dangerous does ok for the first two dives, then suddenly loses stamina and begins belly flopping. "Oww," she moans.
"You know what I do sometimes?" asks Instructor C. "Sometimes with my four- or five-year-olds, I'll grab one of their feet so that they naturally go in head first!"
Ms. Dangerous's eyes widen at the terrifying mental picture. She sputters, "That's where I draw the --"
"Line!" glibly answers Instructor C, "Don't worry, I don't think we'll have to cross that line, will we?"
For a few moments Ms. Dangerous refuses to dive in again, then thinks What the hell.. and goes for it.
They keep at it for the first half of the lesson, Ms. Dangerous goading Ms. Wet with "one more dive," Ms. Wet's not-quite-drowned competitive spirit pushing her to match Ms. Dangerous dive for dive. Both ignore Instructor C as she rhapsodizes about combining diving with streamlining with freestyle, and Ms. Wet thanks her lucky stars that she can still stand up in the water.
Finally they move on to the second half of the lesson: streamlining from the wall, kicking off and staying under water as long as possible. Ms. Wet still can't force her butt under the water. Ms. Dangerous tries to explain to Ms. Wet that she figured out how to do it: bend over in the rag-doll pose from yoga class, then kick off. Instructor C, who has no idea how that sentence will end, stares at Ms. Dangerous as if she is speaking Martian.
They finish the lesson a little worse for wear, Ms. Wet with scraped elbows and knees, Ms. Dangerous with a bruised ego.
Even after a week of nightmares in which giant barges sink to the depths of the pool, never to surface again, Ms. Wet arrives at Lesson 5 determined to continue. Ms. Dangerous, on the other hand, arrives ready and eager to dive into the deep end, her bravado strengthened by her compatriot's anxiety.
Ms. Wet convinces Instructor C to compromise and start the diving lesson at 5.5 feet. (Yes, we know that is too shallow for diving, but Ms. Wet isn't going any deeper.) At the same time, Ms. Dangerous loses a bit of her courage, as she has detailed mental pictures of striking her head on the bottom of the pool.
Before they even enter the water, Instructor C starts the lesson with a dive.
Where is our warm up? thinks Ms. Wet.
Instructor C leaps off the side of the pool with perfection, diving arms-first into the water and torpedoing out under the lane dividers. "See how easy that is?" she asks cheerfully, "Now it's your turn!"
Ms. Wet bravely offers to go first. She takes two dives from a kneeling position, rolling into the pool arms first. Still, she struggles to keep her head down between her arms, instinctive self-preservation causing her to lift it at the last second. This leads to enormous pressure on her sinuses every time she hits the water. "It's burning behind my eyes!" she gasps.
Ms. Dangerous does ok for the first two dives, then suddenly loses stamina and begins belly flopping. "Oww," she moans.
"You know what I do sometimes?" asks Instructor C. "Sometimes with my four- or five-year-olds, I'll grab one of their feet so that they naturally go in head first!"
Ms. Dangerous's eyes widen at the terrifying mental picture. She sputters, "That's where I draw the --"
"Line!" glibly answers Instructor C, "Don't worry, I don't think we'll have to cross that line, will we?"
For a few moments Ms. Dangerous refuses to dive in again, then thinks What the hell.. and goes for it.
They keep at it for the first half of the lesson, Ms. Dangerous goading Ms. Wet with "one more dive," Ms. Wet's not-quite-drowned competitive spirit pushing her to match Ms. Dangerous dive for dive. Both ignore Instructor C as she rhapsodizes about combining diving with streamlining with freestyle, and Ms. Wet thanks her lucky stars that she can still stand up in the water.
Finally they move on to the second half of the lesson: streamlining from the wall, kicking off and staying under water as long as possible. Ms. Wet still can't force her butt under the water. Ms. Dangerous tries to explain to Ms. Wet that she figured out how to do it: bend over in the rag-doll pose from yoga class, then kick off. Instructor C, who has no idea how that sentence will end, stares at Ms. Dangerous as if she is speaking Martian.
They finish the lesson a little worse for wear, Ms. Wet with scraped elbows and knees, Ms. Dangerous with a bruised ego.
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