Let’s rank the things that make children happy (or hysterical):
1. Open Christmas presents.
2. Open birthday gifts.
3. Dive into a swimming pool.
The problem is that humans, even if they have spent nine months in their amniotic fluid, cannot swim at birth. Also, when summer comes, with its beaches and swimming pools, the responsible father wants to ensure the safety of his offspring by teaching him the basics of breaststroke or backstroke. Personally, I had planned to register it for baby swimmers, but finally, we forgot, time flies so quickly.
So here we are at the edge of the swimming pool with a 3-year-old child, at the time of the instructions.
– You can go in the water, but only with your armbands and in the presence of an adult.
The child spends hours playing in the pool, hanging on to his father, who encourages him, shows him how to kick his feet and put his head under water. Privileged moment, simple happiness. Even if, after a while, you can’t be happy anymore. It’s the holidays, we just want to sunbathe on a deckchair.
– I want to swim alone with the armbands, declares the child one fine day (the following year, in fact).
The parents thank God, who invented the buoys to allow them to read a book pépouze while the toddler paddles in safety. But tranquility is never acquired, and some time later, the child formulates:
– How do you swim without armbands?
The dad then returns to the pool.
– We’ll try to plank first, son.
Supported by the paternal hands, the child settles on the back, arms and legs in a star.
– Pump up your lungs.
The father removes a hand.
Then a second.
And the child sinks.
It’s normal, it doesn’t work the first time. We fish it out.
After a few attempts, the father removes his hands and the child floats, a smile on his face. The tender father (though vigilant) yells at the mother “film, film, damn it, look, our son can swim, well almost” which reinforces the pride of the child, which is immense, but not as much as that of the father. .
To celebrate, it’s high time to order two mojitos (and a grenadine for the little one, please).
Next morning. 6:46 a.m.
– Dad, are we going for a swim?
The father, who still has traces of mojito in his blood, explains to his enthusiastic descendants that the swimming pool does not open until 8 a.m. The child nods.
Then, at 6:49 a.m., he asks:
– Is it 8 o’clock? Shall we swim?
We can’t blame him. He wants to use his new skills.
At 8 o’clock sharp, the child jumps into the water, planks, floats, kicks his feet. He is moving forward. Cross the swimming pool in its width. Alone. Without armbands. He swims. In 24 hours, he made a quantum leap. What better metaphor for education? We carry a juvenile being, we accompany him and he gradually detaches himself, grabbing his autonomy to go, further and further, towards the fulfillment of his destiny.