Foos’ great grandparents swung by to see us on their way back to Massachusetts. We take great pleasure in their company, and the visit, though short, was lovely. We met them at their hotel, then went to Brett’s Waterway Cafe for dinner. Leaving the hotel on our way to Brett’s, we passed a room full of women, two of whom were wearing crowns, eating dinner. Foos, my budding feminist and a lover of all things women, must have thought it was some kind of lady party. She walked right up to their table, flicked her hair over her shoulders, did a weird little shimmy, and declared “I’m a girl!” One of the crowned women, “Mrs. Corporate America” (?), came over and started talking to Foos. When Foos read her sash, Mrs. Corporate America said “she is three and can read “corporate america”? I have to get my picture taken with her!” totally making foos’ day. I should note that in a true only in Florida moment, “Ms. Shrimp Festival” was also in attendance.
We had our dinner and braved the wind to see the rubber shark on the pier. Someone had taken out all of its teeth and painted blood dripping from its gums; I wondered what my child thought of this unnecessary display. We crossed the train tracks and watched a graffitied train back into the paper mill, the wind still howling, a poor attempt to elongate the visit. But after some impressive rough housing between grandpa and Foos, the visit did end. We said our goodbyes in the parking lot, and tried to give enough hugs to last us until next october.
I spent the ride home wondering how one becomes “Mrs. Corporate America.”