🍹 My Vacation Bag Still Has a Whistle

Because trouble doesn’t take time off.

We were poolside in Miami.
Palm trees, ocean breeze, tiny umbrellas in every drink.

I told myself I’d relax.
No calls, no conflicts, no power trips.
Just sun and silence.

Then it happened.
Two guys started arguing over who had the best lounge chair.
Next thing you know, a kid cannonballed into the shallow end.

Old habits kicked in.
I reached into my bag.
There it was, gold whistle, still on the lanyard.

One sharp blast.
Crowd froze.
Even the waves sounded quieter.

Do I feel bad about making strangers clear out of the deep end?
Not at all.

Vacation or not,
someone has to keep order.