Jammed

Looking at the clock -- or should I say "godforsaken" clock -- at 4:00 a.m., I turned off the alarm set for 5.  I had decided at that sleepy moment to forego the early-morning swim.  I would have had to have hit the pool at 5:30 to get my laps in because grandson was expected at 7:15.  No, I thought, I am just not going today.  Period, the end. 

Drifting in and out of sleep over the next hour, my annoying OCD swimmer brain kicked in.  Up I got and hit the pool for 5:30.  It was jammed, which I knew it would be, having been there at that hour on several ungodly occasions.  Nevertheless, it still surprises me.  Natural alliances form at the pool.  I gravitate to like-minded men and women because we all like and hate the same people, the latter being people who have no clue about lane etiquette.

Like the one I swam with again this morning. 

I have encountered her many times and have never enjoyed sharing a lane.  She is aggressive, not as fast as I, but refuses to let me go first when we meet at the end of the pool.  I entered the lane she was occupying; she rudely coped.  But then two others entered the same lane and she actually got out and complained to the lifeguard.  "Is she gone?" I shouted to Gillian.  "Yes, she said it was too crowded."  Perfection!  "Aggressive woman" has left the building.  Why do some women insist on being so unlikeable?

Grandson arrived to our delight and took over the house.  Only 17 months old, he is quite the little person.  French toast was on the menu, then it was the park, then a walk around the block, then the grocery store and finally lunch.  He is very definite.  Would not take his jacket off the whole day.  Walked around putting every toilet lid down.  Found grandpa's slippers and brought them to him.  Located several pairs of my shoes in the hall closet and brought each out until I decided which to wear.  Put all the others back exactly where he had found them.  He even took a cloth and washed the floors after lunch.  After his nap it was playing on the computer, watering grandma's flowers and "talking" on the phone.  Gibberish, but he certainly knows what he is saying.   

No wonder we are here.