I relaxed on the sands of Heart Pond today, trying to get some sun to my pasty skin before heading to the beach tomorrow. Don’t want to blind anybody.
And I found myself growing frustrated at several situations. The wind kept flipping my bamboo mat every time I stood up, even though I had it weighed down with shoes and the backpack. Oh, well.
Now I understand that children must have space to be loud, to run, to jump. So the gleeful play of nearby children did not bother me. But when a girl asked repeatedly if she and her siblings could get their clothes wet in the murky waters of the pond, sounding like a skipping CD, I began to snarl. Just as I was about to beg the father to answer his child for the sake of my sanity, he finally told the children yes. Yet one of the girls did not hear him and posed the question again, “Daddy, can we get our clothes wet?” He had to answer a bit firmer. I let out a long sigh of relief. This is not the first time I’ve had to clamp my mouth shut at parents who bring their small children to the pond and expect them not to be curious and longing of a dip in the water.
Then a couple of young women stood in the shallow waters. One snapped pictures of the other against the lush green tree line of the pond. She claimed to get some cool shots of the friend, jumping and splashing, and tossing water into the air. Their laughter was uplifting at the same time frustrating. Then the girl announced that her rolled up jeans were “soaked” loud enough for half the pond’s residents to hear. I rolled my eyes. Of course, stupid. That’s what happens when you jump around in water.
I was also bothered by a woman throwing a ball to her dog close to where the canoes and kayaks needed to launch.
I flopped onto my belly to tan the back of my legs. I suddenly stiffened and lifted my head at the realization of two possibilities. And I asked myself:
“When did I become a Grumpy Old Woman?”
“Have humans always been this annoying, and I just never realized it?”