At 5:15 the life guards at the Scarborough Beach State Park in Rhode Island announced that all the facilities would be closing at 6, NO EXCEPTIONS. At about 5:50 my little one announced that she needed to go, so we beat it across the grey sands, made irridescent in places by flecks of mica, over to the bathhouse. The bathroom was already locked, but a young woman with a broom redirected me to one inside the building, adjoining the bathhouse where hot showers were available. Perched on the potty, the niña told me that she couldn't go because she was too sandy. Of course, of course.
We went to the hot showers, and as if by some miracle I happened to have a quarter in my pocket. But I couldn't get it in the slot, and a young teenager (a tweener, I believe they are called by those who market things to them) offered to help us. She tried it and couldn't get it in either, so we headed around to the next aisle of showers where she was able to get one going with my quarter. Perhaps I could have gotten it in myself if I wasn't too panicked and distracted to focus. In a gush of gratitude I told her she was absolutely fabulous. And she was. And So was the water.
No comments:
Post a Comment