Not Who You Think I Am

image credit flatrock.org.nz

Picking the busiest moment to slip through the sliding door behind a leggy blonde, I covered my face with Good Housekeeping Magazine (ok fine I'm lying it was Hello Magazine) I anxiously looked for a spot far far away from The Target.

The option was either up the back next to a smartly dressed set of Chinese grandparents or along the side next to a group of 12 year old boys waiting for Squad to start. I went for the Grandparents. I figured with the magazine in front of my face I could pass for their badly dressed niece.

"The Wheels on the Bus" had started. I was trying to peer over the story I was reading about Prince Harry (who BTW is now kinda cute... does that make me Mary Kay Letourneau?) when The Target appeared to look my way so I instinctively bent forward and pretended to tie my shoe. This gave the grandparents reason to raise their eyebrows. I was wearing ballet flats. OOps.

No matter, the main thing was that The Target hadn't seen me. Things were going well. It was already 9.15 and as far as I could hear (from the cheap seats) there was no crying to be heard and I may have even seen a smile and heard a laugh at one point.

Where was I? Why was I carrying on like the hot chick from Get Smart at 9am on a Saturday? I was at my local swimming pool. Watching my Tinker and her Papa take toddler swimming classes. Why the disguise, despite the fact that I actually like Hello Magazine? Well I happen to be one of those parents who has to hide out of view whenever my child is doing an activity without me lest she breaks down in tears.

Yes, seriously. Now usually I go and grab myself a coffee and then I hide behind her best friend's mum but this week her BFF missed class so I was forced into solo espionage. It sounds awful doesn't it? The thing is, Tinker actually loves swimming class. She has been going since she was 4 months old and she only cries when she can see me. Sure the answer might be for me to don a swimsuit and actually join her in the pool but lets be honest here. Who wants to get their post-baby body out at 9am on a Saturday when they have a perfectly willing husband? Not me.

So the incognito act it is. I scanned the pool on Saturday and as far as I could tell I was the only one behaving strangely. No other parent seemed to be doing it. So I wonder is anyone else a closet spy or am I all alone with this embarrassing charade?