I'm feeling refreshed, having just returned from water aerobics. My instructor, a man with larger breasts than, well, me, led the class in Bo Derek leaps up and down the length of the pool, pausing intermittently to instigate a communal WHOOP! Yes, all the Bettys and Berts sounded their barbaric yawps except for 75 yr old Gil. Wearing a blue Gilligan hat and bug eye sunglasses (and little else) he opened his mouth to humor Heavy Al (instructor), but no sound came out. Then he gave me a "how stupid is this look" and proceeded to twist his body like a washing machine agitator.
"What move would you like to do, Gil?" asked Al.
"Frogz" said Gil (pronounced with a long O).
Only a man would request frogs because jumping up and down splay legged in a pool gives the ladies a particular kind of enema that only girls can get. Modify.
And so it happens, that I spend more time in my life with senior citizens and children (mine) than I do with anyone my own age. Water aerobics, daily Mass, my neighbors...it's the seniors, and me, who are home during the day and do the things I do. Where are the other moms? What are they doing? Why does everyone have to go to G.D. work? I NEED PLAYMATES! WHAAAAAA!
And it's not that I don't like the water aerobics crowd. They're funny and fun people to be around. But suffice to say we are at different points in our lives. After aerobics, they shower and dress and go to Shirleys cafe for a fried pork tenderloin. I pick up my kids from child watch in a wet swimsuit, take them home for PB and J and try to get some of them to take a nap. Our lives collide for a moment at the pool and then we are off our separate ways.
Well, enough of a rant for today. Jane just informed me she would be outside, sitting on a rock, smiling if I would like to come take her picture.