My Mommy Went to the Beach (with me) And All I Got was This Lousy Sister

I must carry an attract-a-child pheromone or something because as of late wherever I go I end up with someone else's kid on accident. They follow me out of farmers markets, through bookstore isles and across supermarkets. They find me schlepping ten bags of who-the-hell-knows-what on the beach, take my hand and say hello.

Yesterday, this happened once again. At the beach, Archer in hand, two large bags swinging from my sides.

A little blonde girl in a flowered swimsuit wandered in front of us. "Excuse me," she said.

"Why hello there."


"Where are you going?"

"Where are YOU going."

"That way," I pointed. "Toward the bluff."

"Oh. Can I come?"

"Where's your Mommy?"

"Over there." The girl pointed every which way and I nodded and looked around.

"Um. Maybe we should find your Mommy...?"

Just then, out of nowhere, Supermom appeared in her American Flag one-piece, waving at us.

"Is this your daughter?" She asked.

"Nope." (She just wishes. JK)

"I see. Well, I've been watching her and I think it's safe to say she is lost."

"Yeah. She's lost. It is safe to say."

"This is the third child I have had to bring to the lifeguard tower TODAY!" The Supermom shook her head. In the background, her children were running amok, burying each other alive. I focused on her obvious choice of a bathingsuit and tried not to laugh and or/burn her.

Supermom started pulling at the little girl's arm. "Come on, hon. We're going to the lifeguard tower!" But the little girl wouldn't budge. She just held on tighter to my arm, closed her eyes and screamed.

I imagine it all looked a little strange. Me holding Archer in one arm, being pulled by the little girl being pulled by Supermom.

"Why don't I take her to the Lifeguard Station?"

"Do you know where it is?"

"Um. Yeah. I do."

"I'll come with you."

At this point the little girl was crying, Archer was crying, my bags were falling off me, towels were dragging and I was going blind from overexposure to the American Flag.

Several steps later, five or so little blonde girls in the same swimsuit as my new friend came dashing toward us with outstretched arms. OH. MY. GOD. There were more. MORE. Luckily the little girls were coming to take their sister away, not to join her by my side. Not that it would have been a bad thing. I just don't know if the huz would have been amused by our newly-extended family of hibiscus-clad blondes.

And so the little girl waved goodbye and Supermom dissapeared in a cloud of red, white and blue smoke and Archer and I continued on our merry way. The two of us. Just the two of us.*


Until today of course when we will be returning to the beach and I will be swimming with fourth graders hanging off my ankles.


kirida | 11:37 AM

Children aren't so much attracted to me as they are to my son. Kids just freeze open-mouthed and whisper, "Baby..."

But if you did return home with your "newly-extended family of hibiscus-clad blondes," like Ricky Ricardo, there would be some 'splaining to do.

nan | 11:37 AM

That's crazy! I guess you never saw her mom? More importantly, did you decide on the polka dot bathing suit or the cherries?


I'm straight-up polka dots. Red with white. Hotttttt with infinitees. Hee.

Anonymous | 1:37 PM

You are the pied piper of children. Must be the tats and those cute ass bangs.

I'd follow you around too :)

Mom101 | 4:16 PM

Ha, K stole my Pied Piper line. You and Nate. Like moppet magnets, the two of you. I suppose it could be worse; you could attract homeless men like I do.

JUST ME | 4:30 PM

kids gravitate towards smart people*.

it's a proven fact.

(*which is why the American Flag Lady had no one grabbing onto her.)

Cristina | 5:00 PM

You must just be a very approachable-looking person! But we all knew that :)

P.S. "I was going blind from overexposure to the American Flag." LMAO.

Heather | 8:12 PM

I have the same thing happen to me pretty regularly. I guess I hadn't thought much about it. I always thought I must remind them of their mom in some way.

One time a little boy (younger than 2 years old) kept slapping me on the butt when we were at a playground. I'd turn and he'd just grin at me. I guess he felt pretty comfortable with me.

kittenpie | 9:07 PM

yeah, I think it's really simply the noticing of short people. It's so easy for most people to breeze by them, so if you engage them - look out! Luckily, it's my job.

Chicky | 10:27 PM

Awww...they know a natural mommy. They're the best kind!

Missed you Saturday! Mojitos!!

Unknown | 6:18 AM

You must just have that kind, and trustworthy look! That's a good thing.

Anonymous | 7:27 AM

First time reader here....

The mental image I have of someone trying to swim with fourth graders attached to their ankles is priceless!

Namito | 7:28 AM

Poor kid. I totally would have freaked if some crazy aggressive woman in a flag bathing suit grabbed me and tried to haul me off too.

There was a reason she chose you to go to for help, Piper Mom. Beyond the cute-ass bangs and the polka dots. You obviously radiate the calm, tot-friendly vibe.

Andrea | 7:55 AM

Children know when they have found a kindred spirit, someone with imagination and a sense of spontaneity that thrills them. That's why the little girl screamed when the American Flag lady tried to march her to the lifeguard tower (and who is she, the Lost Kid Martyr?) and dump her on them.

If I lived nearby, I'd follow you around too, if only to watch Archer be so freakin' cute all the time!

Andrea | 7:57 AM

I mean, the little girl screamed because you are the kindred spirit, not the LG Tower Martyr, and she obviously knew who would be nicer to her. Not to mention the little girl probably knew to avoid the fashion faux pas of the Am Flag suit in favor of your chic polka dots!

Anonymous | 9:20 AM

All this talk about beaches and bathing suits (2 entries ago) shuffled up a memory from the depths. Roughly 18 years ago we took the boys to Acapulco. Wasn't bad. Best was afternoon fruit plates at the pool. Also at the pool were a pair of German hausfraus, each the size of an armored humvee. At first we thought they were naked since the bikini's they wore vanished in the folds of spaetzel, saurbraten und beer. Utterly zero concern for what the world thought of their figures, they pranced, swam, ate, drank and napped poolside while wearing those save-the-cotton-fields suits. I doubt the boys will remember even though Mr. H was old enough to be thoroughly offput by our European allies. Ask him see if the picture remains. I doubt if the picture is in his erotic memory bank.

Christina | 11:50 AM

Ha! I never get kids following me. It's always the weirdos who come up to me instead. Sigh.

Anonymous | 12:45 PM

I just have lost animal karma. It's very strange.

(P.S. Grandpa East is funny! Great story!)


Ha! Great stuff and go Grandpa East! I'll have to ask Hal about that one. Hee.

Stacy | 2:14 PM

that happens to me a lot too. it's kinda weird.

jdg | 2:20 PM

that's the cliff house!

Pinterest Failures | 1:50 PM

Kids never follow me, but then again, I don't go to the beach ofte.

BTW-Grandpa East needs a blog--great story!

Anonymous | 1:51 PM

Children can smell good mothers from a mile away . . .

Anonymous | 3:28 AM

No wonder the poor kid started bawling. Supermom's are scary creatures. Especially Supermom's in flag swimsuits.

Anonymous | 5:36 PM

Best post I've read from anyone in a few billion years. Seriously.