I am fearful that I am becoming a middle aged cliche.
I recently went to a water aerobics class at the local Y.

Understand that I have participated in these classes before. But, I was in  some tropical locale where all the participants were vacationers, of various ages and shapes and were, no doubt, so hung over from the previous nights festivities that they were intent to be bouncing about in hope that they would find some relief from the throbbing headache they couldn't otherwise shake. Alternatively, they were still too inebriated to know how foolish they, as well as the rest of us, actually looked.

The group at the Y were categorically not a group of toned and tanned revelers, but were "central casting" for a mid day weekday class of middle aged women.

And there I was in the midst of them.

I found my water weights under the direction of an "old timer" who informed me that since this was my "first time" I might want to consider the slightly speckled variety of weights. "They are lighter" she said conspiratorially, clearly not takng note of my years long, prior attempts, to be firmed and toned.
I thought, perhaps it was her water goggles, which she dutifully had on, that had clouded her vision.

So, I bounced and bobbed, twirled and kicked in time and rhythm with the rest of the ladies. And, yes, I know this is great exercise for bad backs, compromised knees, and sore joints.

Having said that, 2 lanes over was a class of "caregivers" and their charges, aged 6 months to 2 years, learning the fundamentals of being comfortable in the water. As they sang out to the likes of The Itsy Bitsy Spider" and "The Farmer in the Dell" I thought, that's the class for me.

I know that the 25 or so pound grandbaby is infinitely heavier that the weights I am holding in my water logged hands, the enthusiasm of those giggling babies is contagious and the realization that my memory has not foresaken me and I knew all the nursery tunes, convinced me that I know which class I will find myself attending next time.