Our camera is so full of photos and videos that our computer can't process them all. It's weird and I think it has something to do with the limitations of USB.

But we're still kicking, even though there's no photographic evidence to support my claim. This weekend was warm and lovely, so we had a picnic at the Governor's Palace, played in the woods, played outside at church, and then spent the afternoon at the playground in the course of this one weekend. Everybody was delighted to shed jackets and enjoy the sunshine.

There is an amazing slide at a playground near here. You can really get up some speed, and it's wide enough for all four of us to fit. We were sliding down the slide merrily yesterday when we hit a hitch. Some big kids (with whom I'd already developed a rapport when the 10-1sh boy checked with me to see if an earring he found was "real") came over and started sliding down then turning right back around and climbing up the slide. All the little kids were backed up, not to mention the adults who were sliding down (me and Richie). So I said, "Hey, you're not obeying the slide rule; Up The Ladder/Down The Slide!" They ignored me. So I shouted, "Hey, I'm serious - you're messing up the flow for all the little ones. Slide down now and use the slide like everyone else." They did.

I did this without thinking about it. It seemed simple. They had no mindful adult within hearing range or within sight. If my kids were being creeps, I'd want an adult to step in - politely. Then if my kids continued to be creeps, I'd want the adult to insist.

Looking back, I have always intervened in these instances, even when I was a teenager.

1. When I was about 16, there was a pint-sized bully at the ice skating rink who kept knocking much bigger novice ice skaters (myself included) off-balance. I fussed him out and told him to quit.
2. When I was about 19, there were some kids running wild at Mama Mia's Deli. The adults seemed not to notice that the kids were running and shouting and taking up the whole tiny deli. So I told them to hush and sit in one place. They did.
3. When I was about 20, I was jogging in a public place when a young teenage boy ran up beside me and fell into step with me, his face twisted into some sort of puerile mockery. I told him to get lost and I said some things that may have helped him think twice before interrupting another lady jogger.
4. The instances of my stepping in as an adult are too many to count. I remember the early ones because they didn't fit with my age-role.
   

Also, I have always given cat-callers (who have miraculously left me alone in the past five years or so :) the bird.

Am I overconfident? I think I just want things to go right. I don't respect peoples' anonymity, for good or for ill, and I don't expect people to ignore me. Who are we kidding, anyway? I'm also super-friendly with people in public, to balance out my uninvited policing. But I'll be darned if I'm going to shrink or cower when somebody's clogging up the slide or ruining dinner unnecessarily or overstepping their sexual boundaries at me. So far, it's worked out okay.

Looking back, I think I come by it honestly. Picture: My mom, 33 (I was 13), in line for the Mind Bender at Six Flags. She's wearing: Neon pink athletic shorts, similarly neon tie-dyed tee shirt, and tube socks with high tops. A fanny pack. Come to think of it, I think even her socks are tie-dyed. We're waiting dutifully in line, entertaining ourselves with the same music video played for the nine-thousandth time and by making innocuous observations about passers-by. We are nudged aside by two really big 20-something men who just look rough. My mom puffs up in her outfit, pursues them a few feet and taps one on the shoulder. "Hey, where do you think you're going?" The men glance back for an instant and then continue their forward progress past other dutiful rollercoaster devotees.

After that happened, my mom took a few minutes to puff down (her righteous anger had been activated, and that means some sizzle). I was mortified.

Since I do the exact same thing now even though I hated it when my mom did this sort of thing, I think it's genetic.

Anyway, I just got jostled aside by my girls who are playing "Antarctica." They are a polar bear and a walrus. Vivian just said, "I am a walrus and I have lots of strong blubber and lots of strong bones and lots of strong muscles." Oh, now Mazie's on a cactus. I guess that's the joy of pretend: you can switch biomes instantly.

I'm making a new pinto beans recipe tonight and (incidentally) we did some tie-dying of our own this afternoon. We chose primaries, but neon tie-dye is totally rockin' too.