Last night was “meet the coach” night at Chloe’s swimming lesson.

 
I’m embarrassed to admit, when our other two daughters were five and taking lessons, I was really keen on hearing what the instructor had to say in terms of development, feedback, what could we be doing at home to keep the momentum going. Should we be introducing some vitamin supplements? Hypnosis?

 
I think with the third child I really enjoy using her half hour lesson for quiet reflection in the form of wolfing down a cheese string, chugging a cold cup of tea and noting that my eyebrows are dangerously close to becoming just the one.

 
I’m really not worried about how Chloe is progressing because I can see she is happy in the water and she’s moving at a level that seems “normal” from behind my cheese peelings and that’s really all I need at this point.

 
Her instructor told me how eager Chloe was to get in the water and how great that is for a kid her age when so many (chewing and combing eye brow with two fingers running in opposite directions, small bits of cheese string sticking to my forehead) won’t get in without some encouragement.

 
Then she cautiously said something with a slight hesitation. It was her careful approach that had me leaning in with interest.

 
“Chloe is….”

 
She paused.

 
“Chloe is….um….err…..she’s….uh….pretty sassy.”

 
WHAT?