My kid jumped!

Last Friday was a big day for WCK. It was her last day of swimming lessons. She passed the Penguin level (which means she’s a Walrus now), and she went off the diving board.
The diving board is a huge deal. I never expected her to go off the diving board, simply because my own childhood diving-board wussiness is legendary. When I was WCK’s age, I refused to approach the diving board, make direct eye contact with the diving board, or even admit that diving boards existed anywhere in the universe. When I finally did end up on the top of it (not by choice), I refused to jump. I had to be pried loose by two swimming teachers, who lowered me down into the water.
WCK, however, is turning out to be much braver than I was. When swimming lessons started, she ended up in the Penguin/Walrus group with three enormous boys. Granted, these boys were probably, like, seven or eight years old, but they seemed enormous to me. Despite the fact that WCK was about half the size of the Enormous Boys, she quickly befriended them. When the swimming teacher was working with someone else, I’d see tiny WCK chatting away with one or two Enormous Boys, having the time of her life.
When it came time to go off the diving board, WCK slowly walked to the edge. She bent her knees. She straightened up. She bent her knees. Straightened. Bent. She thought about it a little more. Took off her goggles. Bent. Straightened. I figured this would be the moment where she’d turn and run out of the pool area, just like the Cowardly Lion running away from the Great and Powerful Oz.
Then the group of Enormous Boys started cheering for her. And WCK jumped.
My kid! My kid jumped!
She swam back over to the side, and one of the Enormous Boys walked over and gave her a high five. It was so sweet. His mother raised him right.
The next girl in line approached the diving board. And then she turned and did the Cowardly Lion Run out of the pool area.
But not my kid. My kid jumped!