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THE ADVENTURES OF I-GIRL
CHAPTER THREE
HOW I LEARNED TO SWIM
Christmas 2002:
So after my Venetian skinny-dipping adventure, I was majorly, majorly grounded, even though it really wasn't my fault. Besides having the flu for nearly a month after we got home, and almost missing the beginning of sixth grade, I was not allowed to participate in the next family vacation, which was Christmas.
My parents and my little brother, Timmy, flew up to San Francisco to visit my Mom's sister and her husband, and also my big brother Steve and his "wife". I had to spend Christmas and New Years with my Father's brother, my Uncle Timmy, and my Aunt Jen. This worked out sort of OK, because I got to bring along Mindy, our St. Bernard, almost as old as me, and one of my best friends.
Also, my big brother Steve is really only my half-brother on my Father's side from a long time before he met my Mom, so missing out on seeing him was not such a big deal.
Also, Uncle Timmy lives in La Jolla and has an immensely huge-o house, including an indoor heated swimming pool. I spent a lot of the three weeks swimming, when I wasn't taking care of Mindy, who didn't get kenneled this time, which is another big plus. Twice a week Mindy and I got to go back home for the afternoon, probably due to some psychological child-care reason, whenever Mrs. Chaves was there.
Mrs. Chaves has been our "housekeeper", that is, maid, nanny, and sometimes cook, for years and years. When I was little she used to take me shopping, and people would ask us if I was her daughter, although she's nearly as old as my Mom's mother. (Being mostly Greek on my father's side, I have dark hair, dark eyes, and pretty dark skin, especially in the summer. The one thing that gives me away as non-Mexican is my really, really Greek nose. Plus, I guess, I don't speak very good Spanish?) I used to call Mrs. Chaves "Abuelita Nana" when we went out, although my Mom doesn't like me to call her that, especially not at home.
So I didn't spend all my time swimming, but I swam really a lot. And I really wasn't paying attention, but I guess I was losing weight. When my Mom and my Father came back from San Francisco, my Mom says, "My you've gotten taller since we've been gone." Which wasn't true. I wasn't taller, just thinner. And what she really meant was, "Gee, you don't look like such a little porker anymore."
Not that I was ever very big. When I was eleven, I was about 4'7" or 4'8", and right around 125 pounds. By the end of Christmas vacation, with all the swimming, I was down to 115 pounds. (I am now, at age 15 1/2, 5'1", and 105 pounds. I still swim a lot.)
A funny thing about swimming, too. It wasn't just I was getting more exercise; I was eating less, too. Not because I wanted to, but because I couldn't help it. There was all this Christmas food, cookies and candy and cake and pie, all over Uncle Timmy's house, but I just couldn't eat it. I mean, I would eat until I was full, and then I couldn't eat any more. Not that I would throw up, I just couldn't get it down in the first place. And not like it made me nauseous or anything to look at it. I mean, food looks good! As long as I keep swimming regularly, eating is like filling up a teacup: after a certain point, no more will fit in, until you pour out the tea. And if I eat a really big meal (like on Christmas Day) I'm not really hungry for a couple of meals or even a couple of days afterwards.
Look, I know it sounds normal, but you know it's not normal.
Speaking of Christmas Day: on the night before Christmas Eve, (that's December 23rd, for you calendar wizards) my Uncle Timmy had a business Christmas party at his house, and I wasn't invited. After the Greek Vacation incident, maybe they didn't trust me around alcohol. Or maybe they thought I didn't have anything to wear, and the Fairy Godmother Shop was closed. So I stayed upstairs in my room all night, playing some pretty boring video games, and watching the Power Puff Girls save Christmas. And Dexter's Laboratory saves Christmas. And Catdog save Christmas. And even Fred Flintstone save Christmas. Several times. What did Santa Claus do for 2,000 years before the Cartoon Channel? Did he have to have Robin Hood save Christmas? Or Sir Lancelot saves Christmas? Or Rip Van Winkle and the Headless Horseman save Christmas? Or Ghengis Khan and Attila the Hun save Christmas?
Which brings up another thing. When you exercise a lot, you need less sleep. I was getting by on that Christmas vacation at Uncle Timmy's on about three or four hours a night or so. I was often up early in the morning, when there was practically frost on the lawn, swimming in the heated indoor pool. I really started to like swimming. In fact, when I started High School, I signed right up for Water Polo.
So I had fun, even though being mostly by myself, even though it was really unfair that I was grounded from the family Christmas vacation to San Francisco for something that happened months before that wasn't my fault. So no hard feelings. Really. I understand it was for my own good. And while my Father and my Mom and my little brother Timmy were flying home from San Francisco, the plane exploded in the mid-air and everybody died.
No, no, I'm kidding. Nobody died.
What really did happen was that my Mom and my Father were kind of grouchy after the San Francisco trip for awhile. It turned out Mom had a big fight with her sister over Christmas, and my big brother Steve's "wife" he is living with now was not the same "wife" my parents were introduced to the last time they were there. So both my Mom and my Father have a little reason to be irritated with the direction their lives were going, I guess.
My little brother Timmy was unphased, though.
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