Woog and Teacher Ina's Boobies

It seemed like such a good idea at the time. After all, he was at the right age to start his education. One never knew, it might just help double his appetite, not to mention get rid of his asthma.

So we enrolled him in swim class.

Just so he wouldn't be all by his lonesome amid other unfamiliar children, we convinced his older cousin, Kylot to take the class too. Kylot is 9, a tall lanky and quiet kid who has no fear of the water whatsoever. Unlike Woog.

And so it began. The hour and a half morning class started out at 8AM. The noise level was impressive as almost a dozen five to nine-year-olds squealed, splashed, and generally created watery chaos in this corner of the quiet nature resort. The 5 twenty-something swim instructors, probably college kids hoping to earn some moolah over the summer, were hard pressed trying to keep them all under control.

“Woogie, come into the water,” they cajoled. And Woogie wouldn't until they assured him he could stay in the shallows. It soon became pretty obvious that he wouldn't let anyone else see to his hands-on instruction except Teacher Ina, a huge dark hulking mountain of a girl wth an earth-mother sort of allure.

She got him to put his head under the water to blow bubbles, play “sharky-shark”, and flutter kick his way from one shallow end of the pool to the other while holding on to a styrofoam “noodle”. All this while patiently listening to his endless jabber about the latest Pokemon monster and Battle B-daman. Finally, assured that Woog had found the perfect mentor, we left the kids with my father (a retiree who volunteered for the chauffer and nanny job) and went back to work.

Tatay provided a day-to-day progress report each time we picked Woog up in the evenings. He wouldn't go into the water unless prodded by Teacher Ina. He would go into the water, but hold on tight to Teacher Ina. He wouldn't use the noodle to cross the pool unless he had Teacher Ina supporting his middle. He talked and talked and talked, making Teacher Ina resort to allowing him to talk only if he performed his lessons as directed. He talked so much, at one point Teacher Ina had to cup her hand over his mouth. At least he ate two breakfasts each morning.

“Woog,” we teased, “you really need to make an effort at swim class or we'll tell Teacher Ina you have a crush on her.” And Woog would protest long and loudly at this mock threat.

Two days before the 10-day program was to end, Woog made his move. As narrated by my father, Woog made his way up to the girls' shower room after that morning's lesson. Sneaking under the wooden batwing doors, he poked his head into the sanctum sanctuorum, and beheld....

“Well, did you see Teacher Ina's boobies?” Kylot was reported to have said. “No,” Woogie complained, “she was wearing a bra.”

Tatay related this with a mix of amusement and puzzlement. Being relatively new to the world of nothing-to-do and no-place-to-go, finally immersing himself in the lives of kids, albeit two generations removed, was a source of shock and wonderment to his system.

Atch and I exchanged worried glances. Five. Woog is five. How early is that to go off into explorations of his own? Even assuming Kylot put him up to it, and Kylot wouldn't say “boo” to a fly.

How can it be curiosity (“yes, it is”, my mother asserts) when we've had baths together since he was a baby, and he knows what breasts and a vagina look like? Woog has seen my mucus plugs, for crying out loud. But all the times in the recent past when he'd tweaked my own boobies (“your nipples are so soft and fluffy, Mom”) and which I'd dismissed and convenient forgotten made me cringe now.

“Woog, why did you want to see Teacher Ina's boobies?” We ask him. “But I didn't,” he protests, “she was wearing a bra.”

Atch and I are at a loss about this sudden display of precociousness. Given both our histories, it wouldn't be surprising that our spawn would follow suit. But at age five?

Incorruptible forever?

Swim class ended uneventfully and Woog conquered his fear of water. Teacher Ina's boobies thankfully receded into the background, and our son settled into his daily summer routine of Teen Titans, Power Rangers, Power Puff Girls and Ben 10, miniclip.com pc games, and only one breakfast.

But Atch and I are poised at an uneasy precipice before the sudden plunge into real life. The life of our boy. It seems we are going to have to scramble to keep up after all.