Cameron pulled me gleefully towards the slide. It starts a couple of storeys up, spirals in a tube out of the building and into the darkness, back in, then whoooosh down to a splash landing in the pool of rushing water below. He was all smiles as he kicked to meet me at the bottom, and couldn’t wait to go back up for another ride.
Later, in the deep end, he jumped off a high block, knife-sraight, to see how deep he could go. Did I scare the pants off you this time, Mama?
He led the way down the rushing river, then turned around and tried to swim upriver, under water, madly kicking as hard as he could. Of course he couldn’t do it, but he kept trying, coming up to gasp for air, and pushing again.
The fun was broken for a few minutes with one of the life guards, a pleasant young guy, who Cameron immediately adored and wanted to impress. He enthusiastically performed the tasks that he was asked to do – sitting on the bottom of the pool, starfish floats back and front, rocket glides too.
Cameron’s come such a long way in the last six months. Back then he’d barely put his face in the water without a serious chocolate bribe. Jump in? Maybe if I caught him.
Tomorrow he starts lessons with the big kids. They’d said he might not be allowed to, he’s not old enough, he’s supposed to be six at the beginning. But they gave him the go-ahead, and placed him well above where he was at the end of his last set of formal lessons.