Long Suffering Cat Herding Person: How are you ladies?

Kayak Woman: Just ducky!

LSCHP: Ducky?

KW: Yeah, ducky! How ’bout you? Are you ducky today or are you, hmmmm, possumy or something? [Possumy? What made me think of possums? The LSCHP is *not* reminiscent of an opossum!]

LSCHP: Actually, I think I’m herony today.

Okay, be a heron. I was cool with that. He’d make a good heron. You never quite know what you’re gonna get at my workplace. I’m sure yours is similar in its own unique sort of way. I am actually regarded as kind of a free spirit, a little bit crazy but in a positive way. I’m pretty sure that my family has long viewed me that way too with emphasis on “crazy” and not a particularly positive spin on the whole thing. Me? I have a rather different view than either faction. I won’t go into it. You don’t want to read 100 pages of navel-gazing. Somehow it works for me to play along with the whole “free spirit” thing at work. So, when 3:00 PM rolled around and the LSCHP emerged from his cave and announced that he was nodding off, I suggested maybe it was time to take a fishing break. (Get it? Heron? Fishing? Gnoff gnoff snort.)

3:00. Once upon a time, there would be four beach urchins up at the moomincabin. Four small blonde female beach urchins. Their grandmother would often let them help cook, navigating the tiny chitchen with four beach urchins on [four] stools two on either side of her. She would teach them how to cut up fruit and vegetables with a sharp knife and other important life skills. All the while, The Commander would be watching My Dear Uncle Harry serve his beautiful wife Bubs (my aunt) and their children, etc., fancy little lunches on the Old Cabin back deck. Good times.

Four beach urchins. “I’m hungry.” “I want a juice box.” “Not that juice box [after I opened one].” “I don’t want the *blue* bottle, I want the *pink* bottle — waaaaaah!” “My brain just stopped on salami.” “That’s a shitty old bottle.” Yada yada yada. When you have a whole bunch of little kids in a small space, you need to set up a few rules. Otherwise you end up spending your entire day preparing food and doing dishes.

And so The Commander instituted the 3:00 Snack Rule! The idea was that after the lunch dishes were cleaned up, the adults could take a break from the chitchen if they wanted to. It actually worked pretty well. Babies and very small children [and grandaddy] were exempt of course. But school-age children? They could certainly wait and they did. And then they got to be old enough to get their own snacks and we moved on.

I am all for children being able to make their own choices and drive their own environment. Up to a point. Parents are important people too though. One of my most important jobs as a moominbeach mom was lifeguard. I spent a lot of time down on the moominbeach counting the number of heads swimming out there in Gitchee Gumee. It was a life-and-death job that I took seriously and I didn’t lose anyone. So glad I could get a break from the chitchen to hang out on the beach.

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