... Or Whatever The Case May Be
Protruding stomach.
Disheveled ponytail.
Her children aren't listening to her.
I can tell by their easy defiance and her easy surrender that they seldom have.
I imagine her calves ought to be about 25% smaller.
They jiggle as she steps closer to the shore.
They jiggle as she awkwardly steps back to her family's sand covered mess of belongings.
Her stomach would undoubtedly jiggle if it wasn't being held in by her tight shirt.
The daughter - I shall call her Tina, in honor of a girl who clawed my arm in the 3rd grade while charitably informing me that "No one at this school likes you!" - is too cool for the water but apparently cool enough to pull off wearing one of those shirts which classmates have signed on the last day of school.
The mother has a pretty profile, adorable nose - reminds me of Mary-Louise Parker.
She sits next to her daughter, their bums sharing a towel.
Maybe I'm just bitter because no one wanted to sign my shirt, I've no reason to be mean to Tina.
I obsess over the guilt for a good minute and a half.
I'm going to change her name to Tonia.
Tonia Lewis was a great friend and she never clawed my arm.
I did bite her once though.
I meant no harm, naturally.
Her mother wasn't as entertained by the bruise and teeth marks as we were and forbade me to visit for a week.
Tonia it is!
I think about upgrading her to Trina but no... she hasn't endeared herself to me enough for that.
Mom points her camera at the bird chested boy in the water.
He's ridiculously animated now.
Cameras make all of us actors.
I'm aware that my mouth makes a sad smile as I think this.
I've no control over my mouth.
My eyes are hiding behind my sunglasses so a passerby wouldn't know the difference.
He might scribble in his notebook that the girl wearing the orange hoodie and adjusting her earphones is smiling the happiest smile he's seen since the county fair of '62.
Then he might scribble about whatever else occurred at the fair, perhaps then his mouth would also be ambiguous.
He might surmise that my front teeth are slightly discoloured from improper care.
No reason for him to know that Tonia Lewis accidentally knocked them out when I was 13 and that it's impossible to keep bonded teeth white.
I've heard that babies learn how to deceive as early as six months.
Crying and laughing because they know it will bring them attention.
I taste salt as I lick my lips.
Toby - he looks like a Toby - his head is cocked to the left, tongue wagging.
Fingers spread out like Rudolph's antlers coming out of his ears.
Oh that is soooo Toby, such a little ham.
This is what she'll remember.
She won't remember Toby's tantrum.
She won't remember that teen angst just made Tina's eyes roll.
She might remember that Toby was knocked over by a big bullying wave moments after the photo was taken.
Ten years ago he would've landed in a frame or on the fridge, maybe even in one of those quirky magnet frames on the fridge.
Now he'll rest in MY DOCUMENTS
Now he'll be sent in an email.
Distracted, my neck is baking.
Did you know that skin cancer on the neck is twice as likely to kill you than if you were to get it elsewhere?
Hoodie is up now.
My foot is asleep.
I can see a couple hugging on the pier.
I hug people all the time but it's not like that.
It doesn't look like that.
You're either really happy or really sad to hug that long.
Toby - I'd aim for him to be 12 or so - he's sparing a towel and air drying.
The mother has a lovely smile.
Such a brief and bizarre discomfort when you wake a sleeping foot.
No way around it.
I usually hold my breath as I do it.
I also hold my breath when I suspect a scare in a horror movie.
And when a roller coaster is about to - whoosh! - take off.
And before a first kiss.
Yes, she is a pretty woman.
She was once a lot prettier.
She looks kind.
You know how some people just look KIND...?
She's one of those people.
I've always feared that I have a deceivingly vacant look.
It's my eyes.
There's no depth to them.
They're light and shallow and disappear in the sun.
Maybe my hugs would have more longevity and less pats if my eyes weren't so vapid.
Yes, my eyes are to blame.
My peripheral mistakes my shoes for a bird whenever I glance to my right.
One splendid second of excitement every time.
I should go, the meter is up in seven minutes.
I saw neon green envelopes under a handful of windshield wipers as I made my way down here.
The parking enforcement folks mean business today.
I'm hope I'm never that empty...
... to take pride in a job that lacks thought.
I hope.
I think I'm going to tell Piper - she deserves a pretty name - that she has a lovely smile.
Yes.
I will tell her this.
It's wonderful to hear such things.
And it will sound so much better than, "I'll trade you my toned calves for your non-vacant eyes."
Protruding stomach.
Disheveled ponytail.
Her children aren't listening to her.
I can tell by their easy defiance and her easy surrender that they seldom have.
I imagine her calves ought to be about 25% smaller.
They jiggle as she steps closer to the shore.
They jiggle as she awkwardly steps back to her family's sand covered mess of belongings.
Her stomach would undoubtedly jiggle if it wasn't being held in by her tight shirt.
The daughter - I shall call her Tina, in honor of a girl who clawed my arm in the 3rd grade while charitably informing me that "No one at this school likes you!" - is too cool for the water but apparently cool enough to pull off wearing one of those shirts which classmates have signed on the last day of school.
The mother has a pretty profile, adorable nose - reminds me of Mary-Louise Parker.
She sits next to her daughter, their bums sharing a towel.
Maybe I'm just bitter because no one wanted to sign my shirt, I've no reason to be mean to Tina.
I obsess over the guilt for a good minute and a half.
I'm going to change her name to Tonia.
Tonia Lewis was a great friend and she never clawed my arm.
I did bite her once though.
I meant no harm, naturally.
Her mother wasn't as entertained by the bruise and teeth marks as we were and forbade me to visit for a week.
Tonia it is!
I think about upgrading her to Trina but no... she hasn't endeared herself to me enough for that.
Mom points her camera at the bird chested boy in the water.
He's ridiculously animated now.
Cameras make all of us actors.
I'm aware that my mouth makes a sad smile as I think this.
I've no control over my mouth.
My eyes are hiding behind my sunglasses so a passerby wouldn't know the difference.
He might scribble in his notebook that the girl wearing the orange hoodie and adjusting her earphones is smiling the happiest smile he's seen since the county fair of '62.
Then he might scribble about whatever else occurred at the fair, perhaps then his mouth would also be ambiguous.
He might surmise that my front teeth are slightly discoloured from improper care.
No reason for him to know that Tonia Lewis accidentally knocked them out when I was 13 and that it's impossible to keep bonded teeth white.
I've heard that babies learn how to deceive as early as six months.
Crying and laughing because they know it will bring them attention.
I taste salt as I lick my lips.
Toby - he looks like a Toby - his head is cocked to the left, tongue wagging.
Fingers spread out like Rudolph's antlers coming out of his ears.
Oh that is soooo Toby, such a little ham.
This is what she'll remember.
She won't remember Toby's tantrum.
She won't remember that teen angst just made Tina's eyes roll.
She might remember that Toby was knocked over by a big bullying wave moments after the photo was taken.
Ten years ago he would've landed in a frame or on the fridge, maybe even in one of those quirky magnet frames on the fridge.
Now he'll rest in MY DOCUMENTS
Now he'll be sent in an email.
Distracted, my neck is baking.
Did you know that skin cancer on the neck is twice as likely to kill you than if you were to get it elsewhere?
Hoodie is up now.
My foot is asleep.
I can see a couple hugging on the pier.
I hug people all the time but it's not like that.
It doesn't look like that.
You're either really happy or really sad to hug that long.
Toby - I'd aim for him to be 12 or so - he's sparing a towel and air drying.
The mother has a lovely smile.
Such a brief and bizarre discomfort when you wake a sleeping foot.
No way around it.
I usually hold my breath as I do it.
I also hold my breath when I suspect a scare in a horror movie.
And when a roller coaster is about to - whoosh! - take off.
And before a first kiss.
Yes, she is a pretty woman.
She was once a lot prettier.
She looks kind.
You know how some people just look KIND...?
She's one of those people.
I've always feared that I have a deceivingly vacant look.
It's my eyes.
There's no depth to them.
They're light and shallow and disappear in the sun.
Maybe my hugs would have more longevity and less pats if my eyes weren't so vapid.
Yes, my eyes are to blame.
My peripheral mistakes my shoes for a bird whenever I glance to my right.
One splendid second of excitement every time.
I should go, the meter is up in seven minutes.
I saw neon green envelopes under a handful of windshield wipers as I made my way down here.
The parking enforcement folks mean business today.
I'm hope I'm never that empty...
... to take pride in a job that lacks thought.
I hope.
I think I'm going to tell Piper - she deserves a pretty name - that she has a lovely smile.
Yes.
I will tell her this.
It's wonderful to hear such things.
And it will sound so much better than, "I'll trade you my toned calves for your non-vacant eyes."
