On Responsibility...

Well, it's the last day of summer before I go back to school. I always get a little sad this time of year. Today, to cheer myself up, I wanted to take the family to the pool, but it was barely 70 degrees at 1:00. I'm not a fan of being cold. To me, 70 degrees is bordering on long-sleeve weather, yet here I was getting everyone excited to go for a dip. We went. It was fun. Cold, but fun. HOWEVER, as we entered the sand play-area, I noticed a woman in a bikini...older than me...who should have been responsible enough NOT to wear one. She had a nice figure. Don't get me wrong. However, as she leaned down to get more sand for her son, um...things released themselves from their rightful places, if you know what I mean. Either she was reeeeeally comfortable with her body or had no idea what was happening. Well, I was there with my children and husband, none of whom have any need to see her wares. What did I do? Was I tempted to inform her of her exposure? Of course. Did I actually go tell her? No. How in the world do you find the right words for that. Think about it for a minute! I did tell my DH to look the other way, and why. We didn't play in the sand long.

Our fun at the pool didn't end there. We did get wet (and cold.) I also sprung for treats at the concession stand. As we sat down to enjoy our snacks, we heard a group of boys in about 3rd grade chatting away and one of them said, "holy cr*p!" Both my DH and I yelled in unison, "Hey! Watch the language!" They shut up pretty fast. Mere minutes later, two of the boys were STANDING on the table! This time I yelled at them to get down, that people put their food on that table and don't want their gross foot germs on their food. I asked where their parents were. "I dunno," was the reply. "Who's in charge of you here?" "Our teacher." "Where is she?" "I dunno." Let's refer back to the title. Where was the grown up responsible for these children? Did I follow the boys to their "teacher?" You bet I did! She was a middle-aged woman sitting in her comfy lounge chair far, far away from the boys. When I told her what had happened, she asked who the boys were. I saw one of the good boys right at her feet. He's the one I followed. I told her that I didn't know, but I bet HE did! That boy squealed like a stuck pig! The culprits were segregated and dealt with. My daughter decided I deserved a "high five" for how I handled things. I like for her to see me stand up for what is right. That way, when it's her turn, she'll do it and not think twice.