Forever Snug

My current crush and I are grabbing some sun today at the same local pond I wrote about last week in “Forever Snug“:

Yesterday was one of those days in which the lifeguards outnumbered the swimmers. We were at a local park that features a small lake and beach; busy late August life kept the crowds away even on a sunny Saturday afternoon, so we were one couple out of maybe ten groups. Two families, each with three water-loving toddlers, splashed about, and none of the children were yet old enough to test their limits against the flimsy, algae-covered nylon rope demarcating the “deep end” on three sides. The lifeguards chatted with the families, flirted with each other, bought each other ice cream, and burned off the calories breaking each others’ speed records chasing after the ice cream truck.

I noticed a three-year-old, possibly younger, girl in a sundress walk alone and with steady purpose towards the water from her family’s towel on the far side of the sand. The width of a football field. Past other families on other towels. She was in a beautiful bubble of self and purpose. There was a man standing in the ankle-deep water, looking over other children. He appeared to hear her before she made a noise, and Daddy surprised her with his awareness before she could surprise him.

A sense of safety, real or co-imagined by each person on the sand and in the water and in the paddleboats, had settled over the patch of families like we were each of us snatching that last 30 minutes of snug snooze in our beds. One of those days, unbearably rare or unfathomably common, in which each moment is its own happy ending. The children were the only people with any charisma, and their concerns—is “Turbo” a character, a song, or a movie? I have no clue and I may never learn but who/whatever he/she/it is, one six-year-old needed her mom to respect him/it—their concerns were what mattered for one afternoon, even to my girlfriend and I, who do not yet have children but want to have them someday.

“Uh-vuh-vuh-vuh-vuh-vuh-vuh!” One kid, old enough to know that she is old enough to know better, could be heard happily shivering from yards away. That was one of the universal sounds that every kid knew when I was a child; that uncontrolled shivering in not-at-all-cold water was like the closing bell at 5:00 p.m. on a shop floor: we all knew what it heralded. Strangely, it heralded the hunt for more ice cream, so the shivering had nothing to do with body temperature. It was after 4:00 p.m., anyway, and Jen and I responded like we were parents ourselves and started to put away our things: books we did not start to read because sharing our words was more important, empty water bottles, my still-dry towel.

“I remember that sound,” I said. “Me, too,” she offered.

Our unending conversation continued, like it does.

“I didn’t like being that age, and worse, I knew it.” She nodded.

“I remember having a calendar on which I crossed out the days as if I was counting down to who-knows-what.” She had the same memory. “We believed there had to be something better, love.”

“I’m happy where I am now,” Jen said. I am, too.

If that is the only gift I ever receive in this life, I am okay with this, because it is the only one I ever wanted. Well, that, and one more strawberry Fribble®.

* * * *
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  1. wscottling · August 30, 2015

    It sounds like a pleasant time was had by all. Thanks for sharing it. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • Mark Aldrich · August 30, 2015

      Thanks, Willow. I edited out my two attempts at adding some dark, ominous … ominosity … out of fear that this sounded so Pollyannaish and happy, but neither attempt took. The moment above was as described above. Happy. I even wanted to include the fact that the kids and families were every race, which was true, but edited that moment of seeming activism out.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. loisajay · August 30, 2015

    I had to Google ‘Fribble’ as I had not a clue. So, they have changed the recipe a few times? It’s still…as good as when you were a kid?

    Liked by 1 person

    • Mark Aldrich · August 30, 2015

      Ah, Friendly’s. Sorry you didn’t have that experience. I’m sure there are many equivalents. Friendly’s in a New England restaurant chain, now slowly going out of business. Sort of like a Perkins. Nicer than a local diner, clean, full meals but also a place one could get a milkshake–sorry, Fribble–at a walk-up window. The Fribble, well, that was special.

      No, the Fribbles I have had in recent years, now incredibly expensive, are not the same recipe, and my childhood-seeking tastebuds know it. It’s just like any other milkshake now. Kelis’ are definitely better.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. lifelessons · August 30, 2015

    So sweet, Mark. I enjoyed seeing this soft side of you.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Lola · August 31, 2015

    Love your intimate descriptions of the dynamics between all ages of beach-goers – including you and Jen. Fits the title perfectly. Of course, I googled Fribble – so, I even learned a new word! I will email you my realizations on the astrology article later today. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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