Father is the First Teacher

“I’m at the pool, I’m maybe 4 or 5, and I’m learning to swim. I catch sign of myself in reflection: I’m a green-capped alien, the water is dangerously blue, every ripple like a flash of light along the pool’s floor, and I’m hanging on to the only safety I know: my father’s arms, my father’s chest, everything sturdy and comforting, covered with blond curling hair.”

http://kajama.com/father-first-teacher/