What is it about me that shouts "Help! I need new eyeshadow! And to be saved from the fires of hell!"?

My three- and four-year-olds have been taking swimming lessons for the last three weeks at the local Y. This is HUGE news. GOOD news. The fact that they have made it to Lesson Three means that they decided to take after their water-loving father and not water-phobic me. It means that their blood pressure doesn't rise to unhealthy levels at the prospect of having to doggy paddle and float and possibly get pulled under by some mysterious swimming pool undertow. It means that they might actually do what I never could -- PASS the Beginner's Swimming Exam and, better yet, learn how to SWIM.

Due to some prior, VERY IMPORTANT commitments with my sisters and a pseudo-vacay, I was unable to attend my kids' first swimming lesson session. So, as you can imagine, I was there for Lesson Two with my camera all charged, every cell of my body PRESENT so that I could REMEMBER this well into my 80s -- the evolution of my little polliwogs into guppies.

But I hadn't anticipated making room for new friends at this thing. Don't get me wrong, I love making new friends. NEW FRIENDS RULE. But... when my little girls with their cute little baby bellies were trying to float and kick, I was busy empathizing with the mother who chose a seat next to me as she chitchatted about how it was nothing short of a small miracle that her son made it to swimming lessons at all, considering that his older brothers threw him into a big pool last summer, nearly drowning him. I missed the photo-op wherein Kyra bobbed her head in and out of the water then looked over at Mom and Dad for signs of their exuberance and pride, because my new friend wanted to know what I did for a living and how many kids I had and what church I attended and all the other questions you might answer on your second date after the third drink when you're trying to decide whether it's too early to sleep with the dude or not. I missed a lot in the name of possible friendship which would have been OK with me if it had actually been a blossoming friendship. But now that I know there were less-than-pure motives behind this befriendship, I am just bitter. BITTER! Because what my new friend REALLY wanted, I realized as the session came to a close, was NOT camaraderie, empathy, or even a stick of gum. No, she wanted for me to improve my MAKEUP. Which kind of T's me off if the truth be told because, c'mon, I was at a POOL. Where it was HUMID. And my foundation and mascara, had I chosen to wear some, would have melted off my face, ANYWAY. But don't let me digress... I was talking about what I missed, I think. And I missed SO MUCH of that second swimming lesson because this woman looked at me and said, "Now THIS is a lady who could use some Mary Kay products." At least... that is what I really, really HOPE she said. Because the alternative means that she looked at me and thought, "Hmmm.... how long do I have to waste good drivel on this sucker before she actually breaks out the credit card?"

There were many other women there, by the way. Other women who WEREN'T toting a camera in their free hand, staring anxiously at the pool and trying desperately to watch their BABIES. There were other places where she could have stood or sat. There were so many other women there who, unlike me, were ALONE!

So why, I ask. Why me? This isn't the first time, mind you. The salespeople always find me in a dark, crowded room much the way pollen always finds my eyes in the summer. And the last time I mistakenly thought someone wanted to be my friend for the fun of it, it accidentally came out that there was some sort of REWARD SYSTEM to all the members who brought in a "friend" to their congregation. I think the reward was something big... HEAVEN, maybe?

Look, I am no one to judge those that pretend to be a friend when they're actually trying to win a pink Cadillac or a place next to God. I am no one to judge PERIOD. But I promise you this, if I ever do choose to use you, I won't do it if it means that you can't watch your kid doing the dead-man float for the first time ever. No way. Not gonna do it.

Suffice it to say, I was at this week's lesson, and NOTHING got between my kids and my camera...