by Colin C. Coad
12/13/04
Once upon a time I was at the baby pool, or, in my mind, the "horrifying abyss of certain death". The very concept of submerging even my smallest toe in the terrible fluid was enough to make me want to wet my shorts. My mother calmly coaxed me to enter the pool, but to no avail. The frigid bucket of doom was no place for a Colin. Then I saw her. She was about the same age as myself (no more than 4 years of age), wading peacefully in the baby pool. I imagine her with a pink bucket, confidently scooping up small quantities of water and pouring it over her blonde head, tenderly wetting her one-piece, flowery suit. I immediately quit my whining, realizing this was the time to stand tall.
The abyss of certain death was no longer my enemy: it was my Everest. I backed up slowly, preparing my young skin for sub thermal shock. All negative thoughts were discarded as I launched myself into the blue lagoon. What had been a bloodcurdling fear, a pant-wetting physical threat, and an ungodly incubus in my imagination had become something that, even at a young age, I knew only came so often: opportunity. In an effort to demonstrate my manliness, I planted my hands at the bottom of the pool, launching myself into a flawless handstand, nearly submerging my youthful head in the process. Following that I performed various somersaults, cartwheels, and even underwater headstands - anything to catch her eye.
Determination is a powerful thing. It can drive people to sacrifice their lives and endure excruciating pain. On this particular occasion, I was determined to impress the water-wings off that girl in the baby pool.
I can't tell you how the story ends. I don't know whether or not the girl was impressed, or if I ever talked to her. I'd like to think that she thought I was the cat's pajamas, and my appetite for impressing people was temporarily satiated. I guess you'll just have to ask my Mom.