So Nan has decided she doesn’t want to swim. Well, she’s always complained about going to swim team but I finally caved and stopped bringing her. I guess that makes me a bad parent. I just got sick of fighting with her, dragging her out the door with a grocery bag of wet towels, suits, goggles, and caps, any of which was likely to be missing and therefore a culprit for another crisis at the pool.

I get it; I hated it too. Somehow I kept going, though. Do I regret it? Probably not. It led to my success as a lifeguard, all those years making easy money sitting around. I try to dangle that carrot in front of her, telling her she’ll never have the easy life I did, that waiting tables and bagging groceries is for chumps. She doesn’t really care though. At least now.