Sink or Swim, Kid
In my day, we didn't have swim lessons. Our dads just tossed us in the lake. If we wanted to live, we learned to paddle, and fast.
You, with the quivering lip. You in or out? I've got nine other Little Guppies waiting for their turns off the diving board. Oh don't get your little ruffled trim in a bunch. It's called tough love, kid. It's not all princesses and bow accents out there in the real world. It's hiding face down in a swamp for three days, fighting off mosquitos and man-eating reptiles while Charlie takes out your brothers one by one.
And I've got news for you, kid in the Mickey Mouse board shorts. You don't know how good you got it. We didn't have the luxury of a cold machine wash with like colors or a tumble dry on low back in 'Nam. In fact, the only tumbling we did was down a hill during a mudslide with bullets whizzing past our heads. So you go ahead and thank your lucky arm floats you weren't born seven decades sooner. While you're doing that, I'll be over here showing the Tadpoles how to do a cannonball.