We had a glorious long weekend. At last, the weather was perfect. The weather people, as Peaches put it, had finally "put off" the rain. So we basked in the sunshine and indulged in lazy picnics. On Saturday evening we went to Gravelly Point. A perfect setting: softly lit Washington monuments provided a stunning view, the Potomac was a picture of serenity and the occasional planes taking off from National Airport added an element of thrill. We gorged on "gol gappas" while a big community picnic nearby had people cheering participants in various games in excited spanish. Childish voices were raised in versions of "Dad, help me get my ball/fly the kite?" in hindi, arabic, russian and other languages.
On Sunday we went to the park near our home. I let the afternoon sunshine wash over me as the kids were engrossed in the sand box. Small boys in baseball outfits played as solemnly as if this was the biggest game of their lives. Lilting arabic songs floated out from the picnic shelter, a small army of Korean men manned the barbecues and exotic smells arose, a pink princess banner fluttering in the wind indicated a birthday and everyone sang out for little Marisol.
Only in America.
Then a shriek rent the air. Popcorn had dumped a bucket of sand on Peaches, time to go home.
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