The shallow end

Saturday morning. It's early and I'm at the swimming pool. My son's lesson. 


I haven't slept properly for a few days, I've got a cold and the babble of enthusiatic parents and over-excited kids is combining with the fug of the cafe to make me feel queasy and on edge. All these people look fresh and sound keen. They look like they're straight out of the shower. No stubble. Unlike me.


They all seem to know one another.


I'm sat between three breakfasting families, nursing an over-frothed, tepid latte. Doing my best to look up so I can acknowledge my boy's frequent waves and proud smiles. He's doing well. Despite appearances to the contrary, so am I. I'm quietly pleased to be here at this time of day. Without this responsibility I'd be in bed. 


He's really swimming now. So is his dad.