Resorting to Madness. Or at least absentmindedness.

14 Aug
Aquatic me

The writer in her natural habitat: in some sort of floatation device.

We went to Elkhart Lake, Wisconsin, over the weekend for our annual family July 4th outing. It’s always a great time, but invariably leaves us completely shot.

My mom, the boys, and I went up early on Friday. We checked in, and then I left the boys with Grandma while I brought the car around to unload the luggage.

The helpful bellman went to grab a cart, leaving his two fellow bellmen manning the doors. I opened the back and called through the doors, to my sons, “Hey guys, come out help me with this.”

To which one of the bellmen said, “oh, he’s going to get the cart now.”

And then I realized they thought I was talking to them.

Mortified, I explained that, no, I was not talking to them like they were eight and five, that I was ordering my children around instead. But apparently, some people do talk to them that way, which is the really frightening part.

I made a joke about putting them in time out as I left, tipped the guy well, and we were all friends.

Which was good, because I saw them again later that day.

Mom and I took the boys down to the pool for a swim, and were just getting out when one of the bellmen found me toweling off.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said. At this point, I was thinking I’d done something wrong in the pool, even though it wouldn’t make any sense for a bellman to be telling me that, unless they dress their lifeguards awfully formally.

But he wasn’t there about the pool. “You left your car out front, ma’am?”

I gasped in horror. I had left my car, fully intending to park it after we brought the luggage up, but instead, I left it there for about two hours and went swimming.

At least I didn’t leave it running. Although then, they could have moved it for me.

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