The Sandbox

Last nightWe went out for Mexican.
The kids gobbled their quesadillas
And wanted to play outside.

So Eddie and his parents sat in the restaurant
Lingering over fajitas, enchiladas and beans.
While I, the world’s fastest eater,
I sat outside, toes in the sand
Keeping track of three blond heads.

“Mommmmmmy!”
My ears perked up, Mommy universal.

A little girl needed help up the ladder.
The problem?
Her mommy, wearing Prada and drinking margaritas
Couldn’t sully her Jimmy Choos in the sandbox.

So I pitched in,
Hoisting Sophia.
Helping her through the tunnel,
Over and over.

I stole glances at her mom,
Looking at me
In my bare feet,
Wash and wear hair,
And shirt covered with a day’s accumulated grime.

I felt jealous of her
Looking like she came from the pages of a fashion magazine.
Sitting on the sidelines,
Chatting with a girlfriend,
While I did her heavy lifting.

It wasn’t until I got home
That I realized
In sizing me up she might not have been comparing my shoes to hers--
She might have been jealous of me, too.

-originally published 1/06