Scream

This morning I was swimming laps.  Swimming can be both sensory stimulating and sensory limiting.  With my goggles fogged up and my ears covered with silicone plugs and a swim cap, I can't see or hear very much.  I swam along, lap after lap, staring at the dark tiles that keep me centered in my lane.  About 45 minutes into my swim I heard a scream.  The children's swimming lessons must have started over in the kiddie pool.  I never heard anyone come in but that scream cut through the water, the swim cap, and the silicone ear plugs.  This very annoying child kept screaming, 2 seconds at a time, at intermittent intervals about 12 times.  Dang!  How annoying can one child be?  Just think how much more annoyed the people are who aren't wearing ear plugs.  I considered screaming back just to scare the kid into stopping.  Then I remembered I loved to scream when I was a child.  My parents made me do it outside so outside I would go to scream and scream and scream.  I loved it.  My friends and I would go inside my playhouse to scream.  Yes, we had a playhouse.  A miniature house with the same shingles and siding as our larger house, our playhouse had a door, a picture window, some cabinets and some chairs.  The wallpaper in our playhouse was adorned with scenes of boys and girls and dogs frolicking.  We sat together and screamed in unison until we achieved a blasting harmony that made our ears ring. Screaming was such great fun.  We must have sounded like a murder scene but we were outside so we were free to do it.  By the time I thought this through, the child in the swimming lessons had stopped screaming.  I wasn't annoyed anymore.  The screaming kid brought back a good memory for me.