MAYS GREECE DIARY

There we were. Ten women in a row. Fresh coffee on the little table next to our bed, a magazine in hand, and each of us with our own bag containing the best Lancaster sun products at the foot of our bed. Our view was a beautiful children's pool, an adorable boy twin with curly hair about two years old, their lovely mother AND... a little poop. In the pool.

The mother was trying to fish him out. The little boy AND ‘the gift’. She was quite busy with it, as she was actually still in the process of putting on her bikini under her long shirt dress. Halfway through that process, she witnessed what was unfolding in the pool and hurried to the ‘crime scene’. Other mothers sprang into action and pulled their offspring out of the kiddie pool with a speed as if a 2017 version of Jaws was unfolding. At the same time, the overly friendly staff of the Sani resort sprang into action. With pool vacuums and underwater hoses. Everything was pulled out of the cleaning closet. The woman choked on her curses, looked for where her husband, darn it, was, and tried to keep her children out of the pool, wiping their bottoms and covering her own.

There was one thing she especially didn't look at. At us. Such an annoying row of perfectly smeared women with the only task of the day to catch up, read magazines, think about where we would go for lunch and then especially what we would eat and well, those things. Without men, without children, just us for a moment. I tried not to laugh, although it looked cute and hilarious. I have experienced that kind of situation far too often myself. And my friends too. I think of the time we went to the notary to sign for our new house. It seemed so cozy, romantic, and idyllic to take our daughter with us. But she pooped in front of the notary's door. I didn't know that, and when I wanted to lift her out of her chair in one smooth motion, my hand was full. Or my friend H. who thought it would be fun to fly to Australia with her baby. She was adventurous and travel-hungry, and that wouldn't change with the arrival of a child. Well organized as she was, she also packed an extra set of clothes for her little man. Only she had forgotten that for herself. And he really did spit all over her. Somewhere around Munich. Or Cologne. In any case, still many hours away from Australia.

What my point is of this incredibly long textual digression is that we all experience annoying, embarrassing, awkward situations. That we all, even we during this dream trip, shed a tear over things in life that just go a little differently than we would like. Moral: if you are lying so heavenly on your bed and everything is just very pleasant and comfortable for you, then you should definitely enjoy that. Duly noted.