The swimming pool at our Florida resort destination varied from 3’9” to 4’10” in depth. Ethan could perceive the difference and was always held a deeper respect for the deep end, yet the irony was that the entire pool was a “deep end” to Ethan. The two exceptions were a stairway in the corner and a sun seat, which was a two-foot-wide ledge along one wall resting six inches underwater.
The resort had an inflatable vest that Ethan wore to float around the pool the first three days. That third evening we swam late enough that there was no one to give the vest to at the end of the day, so I put it among a pile of damp towels so it wouldn’t blow away in the strong wind. Who knows what the resort laundering staff did it, but the next morning when we went to check out the vest again, no one knew where it was.
Ethan had some preparation for the dilemma. His swimming lessons at the YMCA had him on the shallow end of the pool doggie paddling with a flotation belt. He’d practiced with me in the big pool at the Y a few times swimming as far as he could with the swim belt.
This time, he was on his own. For half an hour or so, he played around on the sun deck and stairway and took little swims to the other corner wall. Next he swam to me in the middle pool. Then a bit further and further. Within an hour, we was swimming across the pool.