Connor is like a rock. Not a rock as in a source of strength, but rather as in he sinks like one. Twice this summer he walked right down the pool steps until the water was up to his eyeballs.
My mother rescued him the first time and without even a cough or a sputter, he looked at her as though she was insane and said, "Nana, why are you in the pool with your shoes on?".
After Lennie yanked him out the second time, he gave him the "you could die" pep talk. Connor's response was "Yeah. I died. But you're a hero, you save me."
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When my oldest son was 6, he did a running dive into the pool at a family function. My brother-in-law looked at me and said, "Can he swim?!?!?!".
I shook my head no, and he barrelled in after him - clothes, watch, wallet, shoes.
Jackson just looked at him like he was nuts.
Incidentally, he learned to swim weeks later. I was determined to teach him, seeing as he obviously has a daring streak.
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