Better Late than Too Late

Four adults in the pool enjoying a sunny California day with the fourteen-month-old toddler boy. The grandparents were enthralled with their first grandchild. The parents basking in the adoration of the grandparents and the love of the little boy, sitting on the pool steps playing with his trucks.

The grandfather and father were sitting within grabbing distance of the child. The mother relaxing across from them on a pool floatie. The grandmother had positioned herself on the deep-end steps, relishing the view of her family and a glass of Perrier Jouet champagne.
    
Everyone was laughing and telling stories. They had been to Paris and the Champagne region the summer before. When they had booked the vacation, the daughter’s pregnancy had been unplanned. The family went anyway but the daughter had been unable to drink champagne, which added a different element to the trip.

“Who goes to the Champagne region of France and can’t drink champagne?”
the grandfather teased.

“Oh, I know someone, “the daughter laughingly returned.

They were sharing stories, recounting highlights of the adventure, when the grandmother screamed, dropped her champagne glass and swam to the deep end. The little boy had slipped off the stairs, quietly, not making a sound.

Stunned, the other three adults all reached for the child who was submerged. Fortunately, they grabbed him in time. He was coughing and shaking but alive, the plastic truck he had apparently reached for, still in his hand.

“It only takes a second. Children drown in silence.” All the television commercial warnings came back loud and clear.

The next day a swimming instructor for children was hired. Three times weekly, the little boy was given lessons. Better late than too late.

— Mugsy