Report from the Keys, Part 3: Okay, About Chase....

Maybe I'm spoiled, but I usually don't have to sit right next to the most spoiled children in the world. One day, down in the Keys, that's what it felt like.

Here's the scene. It's a bright, hot day. We find four lounge chairs more or less in the shade by the pool. We settle in to relax. There are a few empty chairs to our left, and a few to our right.

A Mom comes along with two pre-teen boys, a frying-size girl, and a grandma in tow. She installs the boys in the chairs to our right (right next to me) and takes the civilized portion of her crew off to the left.

Right next to me sits Chase. A pudgy little guy with his nose buried in some game-boy ultra or something. Next to him is his brother, maybe a cousin, who appear to be poking Chase, or annoying him in some way.

"Maaaaa-AAAAAA-OOOO-ooooo-mmmmmmmm-MUH!" said Chase. In a high, shrieking whine.

Mom is across the way, in the pool. She's playing with the little girl. Chase never really took a look to see who he might be calling for, or where she might be. He just let fly with the loud, drawn-out call of the spoiled child.

He got hungry. His call echoed forth.

He was thirsty. He sounded his battle cry.

That, my friends, was Chase.