Vacation Dispatch

You know, I'm trying -- really hard, honest -- to raise kind, respectful people. Persons who use their words to connect, rather than divide. Persons of emotional intelligence.

Progress is slow.

For example. Last night, the adults in our little vacation party (namely, husband, SIL, BIL, and self) were enjoying a lovely dinner al fresco on the balcony of our vacation condo. Our position overlooked a golf course, the edges of which were being plumbed for stray balls by a gaggle of frolicking children.

Historically, the gaggle of frolicking, golf-ball-seeking children has been our own. But last night, some other children dared to horn in on what, apparently in the mind of a certain three year old among us, is OUR territory.

Said child approached the railing of the balcony and surveyed the horrors below. Strangers! Searching for golf balls! Stealing them from our perspective clutches!

"YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A BUNCH OF ROTTEN POTATOES!" she shrieked over the railing.

Excuse me? Rotten potatoes? How does she dream this stuff up?

"Caroline!" I gasped. Of course, we had a little chat about not insulting people. Of course, she immediately hurled the zinger again. Of course, she was hustled indoors. But the point had been made. And we're all resolved to stay on her good side. I mean, rotten potatoes? What's next -- moldy heaps of warm compost?

Yes, it's been a very relaxing time here. And how's your spring break going?