An Entitled Woman Took the Lounge Chairs My 8-Year-Old Daughter and I Had Reserved

The next morning, the room felt quiet as we began to pack our bags.

The swimsuits were damp, packed in plastic bags. The pink goggles were tucked away, and the stuffed dolphin, Dash, was nestled safely at the top of Mia's suitcase.

But the energy in the room was entirely different from when we had arrived.

There was no tension. No lingering anxiety. The room was filled with the warm, golden light of the morning sun, and the sound of the ocean felt like a gentle goodbye rather than a distant dream.

Mia stood in front of the mirror, wearing her yellow dress from the night before, her bare wrist clean and clear.

"Mom?" she asked.

"Yes, baby?"

"Do I look like a pool girl now?"

I walked over, standing behind her and wrapping my arms around her shoulders. I looked at our reflection in the glass.

"No," I said, kissing her cheek. "You look like a girl who owns the whole ocean."

She giggled, hugging my arms tightly. "I like that better."

We checked out of our suite, leaving a small, hand-written thank-you note for Dr. Aris and the resort staff, along with a drawing Mia had made of our cabana, complete with a giant, friendly dragon sleeping peacefully in the ocean.

As we walked through the lobby, Marcus was waiting near the exit.

"Safe travels, ladies," he smiled, opening the door for us.

"Thank you, Marcus," Mia said, stepping forward to give him a big, enthusiastic hug. "I’m going to practice my handstands every day!"

"I expect nothing less," he laughed, bopping her nose gently. "See you next year, princess."

We walked out to our car, the warm air wrapping around us like a familiar blanket. As I buckled Mia into her seat, she looked out the window at the palm trees and the sparkling water in the distance.

"I’m going to miss this place, Mom," she said.