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2002-07-15 | 1:30 p.m.

Unseasonably windy and cold this morning. Poor Jasper shivered through his first swim lesson. We lied about his age so he could go with the four- and five-year-olds, figuring he is big enough and mature enough to be there. Otherwise he would have had to go with the one-to-threes and me in with him.

Actually, we didn't lie. Not exactly. We wrote his correct birth date on the registration form and requested the 4-5 group, betting that none of the young lifeguards would bother doing the math.

So far, so good.

He wasn't the smallest kid in the group, but he sure looked tiny from my seat in the bleachers. My little bubula. The only blond in the group, and still I had trouble keeping track of him because his head was below the edge of the pool. Every few minutes, a little slice of cutie pie would bob into view, and I'd relax a little. He's right there, he hasn't drowned.

I know that sounds morbid but in my thoughts it is merely a statement of fact. I'm plain-spoken in daily life and even more so in my head.

The girls have their lesson tonight at 6:20. They'll probably have cold weather, too. You'd think July would be more predictable.

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