I spent my afternoon down at the local watering hole, which is also known as the badi or outdoor pool. I leisurely breast-stroked my way up and down the lap lanes then retired to my lounge chair that I had ideally situated half in the sun and half in the shade, slathered myself in SPF Skin-Cancer-Can -Eff-Off, grabbed my water and my book and enjoyed a gorgeous afternoon.
As I was reading a gaggle of girls laid their towels out beside me and giggled away as they whispered highschool secrets to one another and sunned their bikini-clad adolescent figures. Of course where bikini-clad girls gather, scrawny highschool boys will follow.
Just down-wind the boys set up their towels, and one lad named Massimo assumed the leadership role that carries the official title of "Get Girls To Notice Us." Oh Massimo, you were trying too hard: they noticed you as soon as you and your pack of devilsh friends started tackling each other as you laid your towels out. The fact the young ladies--all stretched out on their stomachs with their towels in a circle--huddled their heads together squeal-laughed was the only clue you needed.
I watched all this in fond amusement.
Until the food fight.
It seems that the new way to attract a mate at the watering hole is to throw your snacks at them. Massimo started the mating dance by flinging his gummibears into the circle of girls, and his friends followed suit: all of them throwing some sort of gummi snack at these girls. The girls giggled of course (who doesn't want to be pelted with food in the name of teenie love?), then opened their bags of snacks and fired back at the boys.
Did these kids buy this food themselves, I ask you? Did they?! Perfectly good pool snacks being flung back and forth: it was like watching monkeys fling their feces at each other except this was worse because those were some delicious snacks going to waste!
I was especially saddened to see the can of Pringles get sacrificed to this ritual.
The girls put their heads together and came up with a plan: slowly all of them grabbed their plastic water bottles, stood up, then charged the boys at full speed while dumping their water all over the boys and then shrieking with laughter as they got chased. As if they didn't know they'd get chased. It was the entire point.
Massimo soon tackled his girl.
She shrieked and her friends rescued her. He awkwardly tried to be chivalrous by yanking a gummibear out of her hair, then both sexes retreated to their towels to stare at each other but never actually have a conversation.
I stared down at my belly where Little Baby was kicking away and laughed to think that one day LB will also be one of these strange species at the watering hole. Then I stared at my mournfully boring bag of dried apricots and wondered if I could convince one of the teens that apricots make a far better pelting tool of choice, and I'd trade them for a can of Pringles.
Because LB one day when you're at the local watering hole and you look into your bag of snacks to figure out what you can fling at your teenie crush, just remember your mother will be extremely disappointed in you if you waste the Pringles.