A ski weekend in Vail is always great for people-watching.
“What’s people-watching?” my teenager had asked me earlier in the day as skiers in elaborate costumes – some drunk by noon and very entertaining – lined up for the gondola to celebrate the final day of the ski season.
Seriously? What’s people-watching?
Later, I returned to our restaurant table from the girls’ bathroom and repeated some of the humorous conversations the ladies were engaged in. Comparing shoes. Heels no heels and associated mishaps. Gossip about the wedding they were attending. Dancing in their 60s. The much too short dresses of the younger girls.
“Wait,” my eighth grader looked confused. “They were talking in the bathroom?!”
“Well, yes,” I answered equally confused. “Why do you think girls head to the restroom together?”
Blank stares around the table.
“To talk about stuff,” I added. “Especially boys.”
“While you go to the bathroom?” All three boys looked disgusted. My husband smiled at me.
Apparently, the boys’ bathroom is silent. No talking. All business. Even if it’s just you and your brother. It’s like a rule. You do not talk.
“That’s weird,” they agreed, looking at me sideways as if I had just revealed yet another reason why girls are so strange.
After 15 years of living in a house of all boys I am still learning. No people-watching. No chatting in the bathroom.