Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad Swimming Classes?

Will: the little boy who fears almost nothing. He's not afraid of the big slide at the park; he's not afraid to jump off anything, no matter how high; he never feared nursery; he giggles when big dogs lick him; scary stories are his favorite; the dark--he treasures it. What is this little boy, this feisty, determined little boy, afraid of, you may wonder? Why, the big, bad swimming classes, of course.

Who knows the reason? He loves the kiddie pool. He loves the big pool when swimming with dada. But one look from Miss Stephanie and the child is in full-on tears, clinging-mode and absolute hysteria.

Here's the kiddie pool, notice no fear--no sense of danger (or common sense for that matter):

And here he is with Miss Stephanie (and this is how he was the.whole.class.long for every.single.class):

Poor Will--apparently his mama tortures him. But torture him no more. Seven weeks of this was enough for both of us. Until next year, I suppose.

P.S. Today we went swimming at the Y, just in the kiddie pool because the big pool was closed due to swimming classes. Will was having a ball, as usual, oblivious to the swimming classes going on around him. That is until Miss Stephanie appears. The mere sight of her (a full month after swim classes had ended) sent him into hysterics, running to me, crying, "I don't wanna go to swim cwasses, I don't wanna go to swim cwasses." Scarred for life, I tell you (and it isn't Ms. Stephanie. She's no warm and fuzzy but she isn't mean).