Mrs. Koch and I were chatting outside the front gate yesterday. It’s always easy to find her in the morning, as she likes to greet our Guests as they approach the admissions area.
“Hey! That’s the lady on TV!”
Sometimes families stop to talk for a minute or two, maybe ask a question; but usually they just smile, nod and keep moving.
All of a sudden, with no warning, the day threatened to turn ugly.
There it was — off in the distance — coming toward us:
A piece of trash.
As the breeze lifted the paper napkin, it flew loftily toward us.
Teasing.
Taunting.
Coming right at Mrs. Koch.
Our Queen of Clean.
(Now, what does that make me? Her henchman? Henchwoman? What’s a “hench”?)
The breeze picked up and became a gust. The napkin unfolded and careened past the strollers and wagons, overtook the mom pushing the pram with the twin baby boys.
GET THAT TRASH!
We jumped into action and gave chase.
Since the napkin was floating just above the ground, moving along at quite a clip–the best way to catch it was, of course, to stomp it.
You try to get just a bit in front of it and then step firmly on it with your clean, white sneaker.
Stomp!
Missed!
Stomp!
Missed again!
(How embassassing. People are watching. People with cameras.)
Mrs. Koch graciously held back at the end to “let” me capture the offender. As I turned around triumphantly, with the piece of white paper crumpled in my hand, I saw the crowd.
Smiling sheepishly, I realized there were probably a few cynics who thought this was a staged production. Or that we were chasing a $100 bill.
Nope. Just two middle-aged women fighting the good fight.
One scrap of refuse at a time.
