Out of the Pool

Earlier this week, my sister-in-law took M. Edium and his cousin Deniece to the neighborhood pool. Its one of those kiddie pools with roughly the footprint of a small house that's barely past my knees at its deepest point. Needless to say, when it gets as hot as it's been lately, it's quite crowded with parents and small children alike.

They came home a little earlier than expected. As my sister-in-law explained, a group of older kids showed up and took the place over, sending large splashes and F-bombs flying in every direction. She said the place cleared out with a nearly audible whoosh.

Now, to be fair, this was at around five o'clock, which is when the daily dinnertime lull usually starts anyway, so there's no way of knowing how many of those families would have taken off anyway. And I wasn't there, so I'm in no position to judge whether anyone should have confronted the older kids about their behavior. But doesn't it seem like in a space that's more or less unspokenly designated for smaller children -- and visibly swarming with them -- there should be some basic standards, rather than everyone rewarding the miscreants by letting them have the pool to themselves?

Besides, if my kid's going to start repeating effenheimers when he hears them, I want him to have heard them from me.

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