Wednesday, February 04, 2009


Every time we join a swim school the place is staffed by matronly middle-aged women and cute college girls. And one hot man.

And my kids always get assigned to the hot man.

Remember Mr. Nathan. Ah, Mr. Nathan. Hottie swim teacher extraordinaire. How I miss him so.

Now the kids have a private swim coach. Tall, very dark and handsome. With a great smile. And bonus! He loves my kids. He thinks they're funny and "great".

For some reason at yesterday's practice he decided to get out of the pool and follow the kids up and down the lane on the deck. Um, hello tattoos.

I had noticed the indiscernible one on his chest before.

"What's that?" my son asked him.

"That? It's a tattoo," he replied.

"And it really hurt!" I added.

But yesterday I saw that he has a superhero inked above his naval.


There's just something about a guy who moves with confidence. Not bravado. Not ego. Just a natural confidence and masculine grace that say "all man".

Yeah, I signed the kids up for Sunday clinics. Just so that they'll be ready for swim team.

I swear.

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