The perils of a public changing room.

I had taken my small girls to their weekly swimming lesson, delivered by a group of young, mostly aerodynamic women who wore some sort of loose wetsuit over their swim wear.

After the lesson, I ushered my girls into one of the two mixed changing rooms (how very Ally McBeal to have mixed rather than segregated). I was in the midst of trying to undress my girls, who were not co-operating whatsoever, when three of the swimming teachers waltzed into the changing room, two having enviable figures and the other being, well, fat.

I noticed their dilemma that I was the only man in the almost empty and small changing room and their eagerness to leave and enjoy their Saturday afternoon. I stated to them in my charming way that I have three girls at home and that I was in the rescue services for seventeen years (true) and that there was nothing that I had not seen. Upon hearing this reassuring news, they became relieved and proceeded to get undressed with wanton abandon. In all honesty, I appreciate beauty like most other men and when they were naked, boy were they beautiful (well two of them, herewith referred to), sleek, taught etc. (you get the picture). The whole performance brought water to my eyes. During this unplanned naked debut of the swimming teachers, my girls were still determined not to allow themselves to get dressed and squealed with delight as they darted around the small changing room. Consequently, there were five naked girls/women and a father trying to reign in the two smallest ones and get them dressed whilst trying to avert my gaze from the fat one and not knowing how to react to the other two who found the spectacle of my two little ones misbehaving quite entertaining. I found the spectacle of the naked (two) women entertaining! What someone who could have walked in would have made of it all, I just don't know - perhaps some sort of Benny Hill sketch!

Eventually all the naked females had clothes on and my eyes became dry again and off to dry my girls' hair in the corridor (that's where the hairdryers are). Needless to say, I was well behind schedule and my wife was wondering why we were not at the agreed meeting place on time. I explained on the telephone that we were running late "due to a delay in proceedings".

Once in the car, wife included, I drove home with a grin on my face. My wife enquired what I found amusing and I recounted the entire episode. She was most understanding about the whole thing and even saw the amusing side of my experience.

Luckily, I am still allowed to take them swimming next Saturday whilst my wife goes shopping.

This time, I'll have a handkerchief in my pocket to dab my eyes.