An Olympic Memory
In honor of the recently completed Olympics, I thought I'd share one of my favorite Olympic memories, from the last summer Olympics, four years ago.
(But first, I have to explain that my wife is the least gullible person on the planet. I almost never bother trying to fool her about anything, or play a prank on her, because I know she won't fall for it.)
So, it was a lovely Saturday afternoon. I walked into the living room and, since I knew the Olympics were on, I turned on the TV to watch them for a bit.
But what I saw on the screen didn't make any sense, and I stared at the TV in incomprehension. I could tell it was synchronized swimming -- by the swimmer's movements and dramatic poses -- but there was only one young woman in the pool, all by herself. What was going on? I didn't understand.
As I listened to the commentators, I discovered I was watching solo synchronized swimming. I'd never heard of such a thing! What is she supposed to be synchronized to? (The music, I learned, as I continued to listen.)
I kept watching, in disbelief, when my wife came into the room, and saw the woman on TV doing synchronized swimming moves all by herself in the pool.
"What's this?" she asked.
"Oh," I said, not missing a beat, "her partner got sick, so the judges are letting her do her routine by herself."
My wife sat down on the couch, eyes wide, moved. "Oh, that's beautiful," she said, watching the TV, her chin in her hands.
My wife may not be gullible, but she is a softie. And with all the mini-biographies they were showing of all the hardships the athletes had to overcome to compete in the Olympics, this fit right in.
And, to be fair, what I told her made more sense than solo synchronized swimming, for heaven's sake! And every moment that we watched, every comment by the commentators, seemed to confirm what I said.
My wife was nearly in tears now, and I couldn't let it go on any longer -- I had to tell her the truth. But if I hadn't, it would have been one of her favorite Olympic memories ever.
