When we are children, we are always expected to complete certain activities that are "for our own good."

"Eat the crusts! They'll make your hair curly!" (or what I was certain to be true- "it'll give you chest hair")

or "Stay outside (in the apocolyptic typhoon) a little longer. It builds character."

The one I currently apply the most is "You made the mess, you clean it up."


When I was a kid, unlike many others who don't view it as a punishment, I took swimming lessons.


Of course it was for my own good. It builds character right? And confidence, right?

Nothing made me more sick to my stomach than the knowledge that on swimming days, I must endure the most humiliating (to me) and stressful experience I could imagine. Read reports in front of the class aloud? Cake compared to this torture. You mean you actually want me to stick my head under the water?

You're crazy.

Jump off the diving board into that deep vat of shark-infested death? Yeah right, sure you'll catch me.

Once I got so worked up I actually vomited. Fortunately, we were on the way back home because class had been canceled. (and I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that I had eaten OJ, pickles and carrots for breakfast)
Who did these haughty teenage instructors think they were? So arrogant and caught up with flirting with each other. Or determined at whatever cost to the petrified child to impress the parents with a card full of fishy stamps on every requirement. (I only got fishies on the "blows bubbles" line. THAT I could do all day)
So what revenge did I enact on these nasty instructors?

I married one of 'em.

Not one of the ones from my childhood... just someone who was one. Geesh. What are you guys thinking??