I’ve had the sick, sadistic pleasure of watching college-aged kids learn how to swim. It’s very similar to watching little kids learn how to swim, but for me the flailing and wailing of a six-foot-two, 20 year-old man faced with three feet of water is much more entertaining than the same ruckus coming from a diminutive 5 year-old girl. Hence: sick. Sadistic. But you knew that.
After a few lessons, though, the swimmer, be he or she 20 or 5, will eventually take those first tentative strokes towards the deep end. Spend enough hours in the water and a person who first came to a pool more likely to sink than swim will end up jumping off the high-dive.
But everyone starts in the shallow end, their toes reaching for purchase on the pool floor, their noses firmly set above the water.
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