Sunday. It's raining and windy, a bad combination, cold. We wanted to do something fun with Noah, something out of the house, but it's raining and the previously planned outing to the park with the swings is a definite no go. I cannot take any more Pepper Pig and I want us to get out of the house and do something, anything. February is the shortest month yet manages to feel so very long.
'Never mind, why don't we go swimming, you can show me your excellent kicking.' I say.
Noah had been telling me quite emphatically how well he was doing at his swimming lessons and by that, I mean he said 'kick, kick ,kick' and proceeded to demonstrate his very good leg work whenever anyone talks about swimming.
'Would you like that Noah?' I asked. 'Would you like to go swimming with daddy?'
'Kick, kick, kick' he said again. I took that to be a yes.
Arriving at the leisure centre training pool, we were hit by a wall of heat and humidity. Quite a shock after being in the face stinging, horizontal windswept rain outside, it was almost a relief. Except for that underlying smell of chlorine. I hate that smell. It somehow makes me think of a morgue, not that I have ever been in one. I suppose it would be a lot colder in a morgue now that I think about it.
Nikala came with us, but being six months pregnant, decided to sit and watch rather than actually swim. Nevertheless, having two of us there was useful , Nikala could get Noah changed in the girls changing rooms so that I didn't have to worry about drying, nappying, dressing and tethering him whilst I got changed myself. The boys changing rooms were empty when I got there, so I picked a locker that was slightly less battered than the others, dumped my stuff inside and went though to the pool.
Once in the pool I forgot about the other parents, all my attention on keeping Noah from drowning himself in lets face it, was probably 25% toddler urine. I didn't want to think about that too much, fully aware that with all the splashing, my own lips weren't exactly dry. My earlier fears about the parents all looking at me accusingly abated as I realised they were probably also entirely occupied in keeping their own children from imbibing too much of the pee pool. We 'swam' for an hour, well, I crouched and supported Noah. Noah splashed and floated, but its the closest I've come to swimming for a long time. Noah showed me his 'kick, kick, kick' and I agreed, he was very good at it. Eventually though it was time to leave and after a quick shower I passed Noah back to Nikala and she took him off to the girls changing rooms to dry and get dressed and I went back to the boys changing room.This time it wasn't empty but hey, I'm a grown man, I'm used to getting changed in locker rooms in front of others, that's OK, you've just got to be quick about it. A quick glance about for a spare bench and I see that there are a couple of other dads in there, each with their sons and I think to myself, I'm a grown man in a boys changing room. A grown man alone in a boys changing room. Oh god. OK be quick. Be really quick. Just be as quick as you can, no one is looking, just take your trunks off, dry yourself and get dressed. You can be out of here in three minutes at a push. Go go go!
A voice. A man's voice. 'Excuse me?'
Oh shit. My thumbs are hooked in the waist band of my trunks. My trunks are half way down my thighs. 'Excuse me? Erm, hello?' The voice continues. I lift my eyes, not entirely sure I want to make eye contact and painfully aware of my current state of dress. One of the dads is looking right at me, he is slightly stooped as if he is being considerate, as if that it makes it easier for me to see his face in the position I'm in.
'Hello, you probably don't recognise me, but we live opposite you!' the man exclaims and gestures to his two boys. One of which looks to be around four years old and the other two-ish.
'Erm ah. Hello' I respond. Grabbing for my towel.
'He's a great swimmer, your little one isn't he?' then to his boys 'so much better than you two'.
'Yes thanks, he has been having lessons since he was about six months and he loves it.'
'Ah that's probably why then' and turning to his boys again 'that's why he doesn't just float there like a lump like you do'.
Having restored some of my modesty with my towel wrapped about myself, painfully aware that my neighbour and his children have now seen me intimately, I awkwardly stumble my way through this odd disjointed small talk until suddenly the oldest of his two boys stalks across the changing room to face me.
'WHY ARE YOU ANGRY WITH ME? WHY DON'T YOU LIKE ME?' he shouts, red faced and hair all messed up from being towel dried.
'Erm what, I, err of course I, um, like you' I reply, never having seen or spoken to this child before.
'ARRRGH I LIKE THE HULK BEST THE GREEN HULK NOT THE RED HULK THE GREEN HULK IS IN THE AVENGERS I'VE SEEN THE AVENGERS HAVE YOU SEEN THE AVENGERS I'VE SEEN THE AVENGERS!'
'Leave the man alone, he's not used to boys like you, and remember you aren't supposed to be telling people you've seen that film'. The man looks to me apologetically and shrugs. 'There's only so much Pepper Pig you can take, you know?'
I chuckle at his little joke about fatherhood and how it mirrored my own thoughts just a scant couple of hours earlier, its what's expected, and it cements my position as a member of the Dad Club. We joke about stuff like that in Dad Club. If you don't know about Dad Club, then I can say no more, if you do know about Dad Club well, you know already what the first rule is...
I cant help but think that the boy is referring to me as the Red Hulk, my face is beetroot from a mixture of embarrassment, humidity of the pool and my ever present rosacea after all. After a few more pleasantries they leave and I get dressed and head out to meet Nikala and Noah. On the way home I decide to let Noah stick to Pepper Pig for a little longer.
HULK SMASH GRRRRR!
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