Swim Squad Mums

This plot pitch is about the crazy socialite clique of mothers who may pay for a swimming coach for their daughters, but insist they get the last say. Bring on the Swim Squad Mums, this is not going to go swimmingly.

Felicity was nervous. She had just moved to Brisbane and away from her friends, her swim club and school. Straight away her mum signed her up to a swim school to keep up her training, and today was the first session.

Jennifer, Felicity's mum remembered how the previous swim school had the 'gaggle of swim mums' but coming from a country town, it was laid back, she thought how different a city could one be.

Walking into the swimming centre, she logged her daughter in and walked to the allocated space to sit with the other mums. She stopped in her tracks, nine mums in business suits suited to an office, not a swimming pool were standing at the side of the pool yelling at their offspring in the water while the coach was trying to teach.

'Miranda, if you don't beat last week's times, no ipad, iphone and no shopping sprees for a month' one mother yelled as she tapped on her own watch. Her daughter went red.

'Bethany-Anne, no don't look at the coach, look at me, I am the one paying, kick your legs faster.' a dyed blonde-haired woman holding a latte in one hand and a Gucci bag in the other screeched as a petite blonde girl looked like she would rather drown then be here.

As Jennifer continued to walk towards the mothers, she suddenly felt self conscious in her Kmart label black pants and blouse and Target brand purse.

'Umm, hi is this the 7:00am swim class? she asked as she stood next to the nearest mum.

Before the mum answered, she gave Jennifer the once over from top to bottom.

'Yes' she replied as she gave a disapproving look. 'But this is the Elite Class, the underdog class is over there, she pointed an immaculate red fingernail to the opposite side of the pool.

'Oh, my daughter is definitely in the Elite Class, I am Jennifer' she raised a hand to shake the mum's hand but was ignored.

Hmmph the mother snorted, 'I guess they let anybody into these classes' she said to the other mother's who let out a gaggle of giggles.

Grabbing Felicity's hand, she found a spare double seat and started to get her daughter ready.

'Felicity Andrews?' a voice from the pool called out, 'Here' Felicity raised her hand.

'Come on in, your slightly late, but that's ok.' the young man in the pool said motioning for her to join the other students in the pool.

As Jennifer watched her daughter walk past the other mother's to the edge of the pool, what she heard made her blood boil.

'Oh my god, if my daughter stepped out of her room dressed like that for swimming, I would burn that outfit then and there' came one comment, then 'I know, but considering what the mum is wearing, I am not surprised' said another.

This is the first time Jennifer had experience cliquey mother's and she had a feeling these comments were the least of her issues.

Final Note, this is a play on the Dance Moms show, but focuses on the main character of Felicity an up and coming swimming sensation from a small town who moves to Brisbane to expand her training, where her and her mum Jennifer face the haunting and taunting of the Swim Squad Mums a clique of business women who wear suits and labels to the lessons and ensure everyone knows they rule the pool despite the coach.