Life at the Pool

Mother and son heading to the pool.

Mother and son heading to the pool.

Yesterday afternoon, my son and I headed to the pool for some Baseball Dragon Tag (a complicated swimming version of baseball that I cannot explain without diagrams and video). As we neared the pool, we heard voices. Lots of voices. Sure enough there was a group of people under retirement age and A CHILD!!

“Who are you?” I asked incredulously, “Do you live here? Who are you with?”

It turns out the head of the HOA participates in a home swap website with a family in Amsterdam. They are here for the week. Paul, Maya, and a name that starts with S are staying in Jon’s unit and he is staying with his daughter. The family had invited some cousins and grandmothers and they were a lot of fun. How many of them were there? I’d have to ask Mr. Bishop (the grouchy people counter) but definitely more than 6. Hmmm it seems the rules apply less to others than they do to the Garwoods.

Life ... actual life! ... at the pool.

Life … actual life! … at the pool.

Anyhoo, we swam and talked and played with the family for hours. I ended up bringing our dinner out to the pool and we ate Sprouted patties and salad (I try and try to keep us vegan) while they ate pizza. Husband and son gladly helped themselves to some of their pizza when offered. It was so nice to stumble upon life and play and get to know new people.

Toward the end of the evening, I received a call from another resident whose niece wants to bring her family to the pool tomorrow. She wanted to know if we would be using it. I told her we had planned on swimming and asked if she wanted the pool to herself. She said she worried about too many people being at the pool. She was going to tell her niece no until we realized that the timing would work out so that they would have the pool to themselves.

I don’t get it. It reminds me of when Luc would hoard his bouncy balls. I told him over and over that balls are specifically for sharing, that’s the point. They are fun when shared, and boring when clutched.

I don’t understand the clutch mentality.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *