Sharing at the Sprinkler Park

I told the kids today we'd go to the sprinkler park in Collierville if they all took a nap. Kora didn't nap. She still came with us to the sprinkler park... and napped in the car. =) Yes, it counts.

You'll remember that the park is separated into two sections: a large area with high-powered sprinklers near the pavillions, and a smaller section for smaller children with misty sprinklers away from the pavillions. I, of course, toted Tyler and Tobias, age 18 months, toward the toddler section while Saja, Kora, and David enjoyed the freedom to play wherever they wanted. I occasionally glanced around to keep tabs on the older kids while encouraging Tyler and Tobias to enjoy the water.

Let me just pause the story for a moment to tell you this: Tyler and Tobias did NOT enjoy themselves today. After I finally got them interested in the small stream of water plopping gently out of the pipes, the sprinklers actually activated and shot the boys in their faces. I don't think they ever recovered. But they did scream a lot! Eventually, they learned to stick their feet in the sprinklers so as to avoid getting water in their faces, but they both turned their attention toward other things during the trip: dogs, coolers, fritos that had missed the trash can, and other parents.

Back to the story. While I was engaging the twins, I scanned for the other kids and didn't see them. I finally glimpsed a towelled child sitting under the pavillion, and it looked like she was eating! Yes, in fact, three towelled figures were eating and drinking at our pavillion, but I guarantee you it wasn't our food!

I admit to you this: I considered ignoring my children until they returned to the sprinklers, so as to avoid the apology that must be made. In fact, I mulled over this decision for about 5 minutes, secretly hoping they would finish eating and return to the sprinkler area while I decided what to do.

They didn't.

Surprise of all surprises, they didn't steal the food after all! A friendly Mexican family had offered to share their pizza and orange sodas (which evoked all kinds of excited, dramatic squealing) without accepting any offer of payment. They had triplet 2-year-old girls, and we spoke at length about many things we had in common. She seemed not only to tolerate my children, but to truly enjoy them. (I made my kids thank her in Spanish.)

This experience is not a rarity in my observation of the Latino culture. Hospitality and sense of community rule their values. At one point, I chased after Tobias (who was chasing after a dog), and when I returned, the man had put Tyler in his lap, and his wife was photographing the occasion. We will likely never meet again, since we're moving, but she accepted our family as her own without a second thought.

I wish I could be like her.

On another note, un abejo (a bee) apparently snuck into one of those soda cans, and he flew out when Tobias tried to drink it. Fortunately, the bee landed on Tobias' shirt, which apparently had orange soda on it as well (imagine that!). I panicked slightly (only slightly, thank you very much), the bee meandered across the shirt, and Tobias tried to pick it up between his thumb and forefinger THREE TIMES! Each time I swatted away his hand, checked my rising panic, and swatted at the bee. I ended up grabbing el abejo with a triply-folded paper towel. No stings, thank the Lord, but one very curious little boy who nearly pinched a bee.

All in all, we had a wonderful time at the sprinkler park. I hear Chattanooga has one, too.