But the universe was on our side. It happened late one weekday afternoon when the pool was emptying out. As I sat there, feet dangling in the pleasantly pee-warm water watching Chase walk the length of the pool for the fortieth time, I noticed a dad I had never seen before. His daughter was also doing laps with an energy level that no child should have at 4:30 p.m. The dad was pleasant looking and I liked how he watched her, smiling. Could this family be the one? I pulled the old "talk- loudly- to-your- child- for- the- purpose- of- broadcasting- to- other- grown-ups" maneuver.
"BOY, OH BOY, ARE YOU GOING TO SLEEP WELL TONIGHT, BUDDY!"
The dad smiled at me. "That's right. Get 'em tired. It's the only way to go."
We were off to the races. Making conversation is so easy when there are children involved. Inquiring about someone else's children appears less intrusive and more benevolent than asking him about himself:
"How old is she?" (How old are you?)
"Where does she go to pre-school?" (Where do you live?)
"What does she do during the day?" (Do you both work full time?)
They were doctors — we could show them off at parties!
We quickly realized we had a great deal in common. Dave and I attended the same college as his wife, who happened to be working that night. They had another daughter who was the same age as Noah. They were both working professionals (doctors, no less — we could show them off at parties!). I suggested a stroll over to the snack bar. Dave and the children joined us, and we all spent the rest of the evening together.
As it got dark, the tension began to build. Would we ever see this family again? I broke the awkward silence, speaking rather quickly.
"Sooo . . . this- is- a- great- time- to- come- to- the- pool- and- if- you're- here- every- Wednesday- then- maybe- we- could- plan- to- be- here- next- Wednesday- too- and- even- order- a- pizza- instead- of- this- crummy- snack- bar- food- and- meet- your- wife?
The moment of truth. He said yes.
We exchanged numbers and agreed to meet the following week. It would be a low-risk date with plenty of other people and distractions if things didn't go well.
©2008 Emily Mendell and Nerve Media
About the Author
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Emily Mendell’s essays have appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer and she is a regular contributor to iParenting.com. Her story, No Longer a Rookie, will be included in Chicken Soup for the Soul: A Tribute to Moms in early 2008. She lives the Philadelphia suburbs with her husband and two sons and is getting ready to launch her first blog, mothersofbrothers.com, in the Spring. |
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