"So.. this lesson is Dan-free?” Nazy claimed.

“Yep, I’ve explained that to him,” I said. “And he told me that he didn’t like that idea.” I thought.

“Let’s just make everything smooth and simple. No surprises.” Nazy continued.

“Of course.” I replied. “Right,” I thought sarcastically.

When we arrived, Tiger, in a breach with tradition, decided that he wanted me to help him into his swim suit. Nazy handed me Tiger’s gym bag. Tiger and I headed to the locker room. Everything was going well until..

“You know, Nazy,” I said walking out of the locker room, “it would have been better if we’d packed a swim suit.”

Aside: Astute readers will note that I did not mention the fact that Nazy had packed Tiger’s gym bag. I did not mention that fact because I have been a husband for decades and I know when it is wise to omit certain facts. In fact, it probably would have been wise to censor this specific aside. (Hence: the strike through — which appears on my Mac, I hope it appears here as well.)

Luckily, the facility had a swim suit for sale. We were, however, wary about that solution. The last time we had tried a facility-supplied swim suit, Tiger had rebelled.

“But I don’t want that swimsuit Dan.” Tiger said - but surprisingly, indeed astonishingly, he decided to wear it.

“Well, it might have been a sloppy start,” I thought, “but it will be smooth from now.”

Since I wouldn’t be with him during the lesson, we had arrived early so that we’d have time to play before his lesson began. Finally outfitted, Tiger and I headed for the hot pool which..

“Isn’t hot, Nazy!” I proclaimed. “Something is wrong.”

At that point, Wendy (head of the swim school) showed up to explain that the heating system was broken, that we shouldn’t be in the cool pool and that Tiger would need to wear a wetsuit during his lesson.

“But I don’t want a wetsuit!” Tiger, overhearing discussion, exclaimed.

Somehow Nazy got him to select an appropriate wetsuit. But now, I would have to enter the main pool with Tiger and then hand him over to Michaela for his lesson. You can imagine what happened next…
“But I don’t want to swim with Michaela!” Tiger claimed. “I want to swim with you, Dan.”

But, when Michaela showed up, Tiger swam right to her.

“Perhaps,” I thought, “the terrible twos are giving way to the serene threes. He’s just saying: ‘I don’t want to’ from habit.”

Tiger having phone at private swimming lessons

My pleasant thoughts vanished as I realized that I had been swimming with my iPhone in my pocket. Remembering Nazy’s less than pleasant experience with a water-logged iPhone, I moved quickly — resisting the urge check the phone by turning it on.

“Don’t turn it on, Nazy,” I shouted as I handed her the phone. “Did you bring a bag of rice that we can drop phone into?”

“A bag of ice?” Nazy replied.

“Rice!” I exclaimed. “Rice. And don’t turn it on.”

“I’m not turning it on.”

“I can see it light up. The internet says it should be turned off while it recovers in a bag of rice.”

“Cooked rice?” Nazy replied.

“You’ve turned it on again!”

“I haven’t done anything, Dan. And I didn’t bring it into the pool.”

It turned out that my iPhone had a setting that caused it to turn on every time it moved. And, for some reason, Nazy had not only forgotten Tiger’s swim suit, she had also not brought a bag of rice to the class. I was sure my phone was toast.

“Toast?” I thought. “More likely coral — bleached coral from a dying reef.”

Newsflash: The phone spent the night resting in a bag of uncooked rice. (Basmati Rice!). During that time, the battery drained, but when recharged, the iPhone worked perfectly.

Tiger not only handled the swimming beautifully, he has become better at dealing with Arrow. Last night, Nazy and I had dinner with him while his Mom and Dad were at a concert. We took him to his house to put him to bed. (There, Carla was taking care of Arrow.) I read him a couple of books and then climbed into his ‘big boy’ bed. We started chatting — I concentrated on how important it was to sleep at night. Then, just as I was sure Tiger had dozed off he sat straight up in bed..

“Wait a minute, Dan!” He exclaimed. “Who is watching Arrow?”

“Carla is watching Arrow,” I assured him.

“Okay. Dan.” Tiger replied. Relieved.

And, Mitra was helping him at MOXI, the children’s museum in Santa Barbara. He was playing with the colorful light board; Mitra noticed that some of the slots for the lights were out of Tiger’s reach.

“Would you like me to lift you up so that you can put lights in those high places?” Mitra asked Tiger.

Byblos Lebanon