The Evolution of Attention-Seeking

     The other day, my friend and I were sitting poolside talking about our issues and life in general. It was one of those precious instances when two friends can open up tell each other their most personal struggles. We sat close together with our feet dangling in the water, murmuring and wiping away stray tears as they came.
    Unfortunately, our tender moment was interrupted several times, and the phenomenon fascinated me. We weren't the only ones at the pool--there were several kids playing together, around nine or ten, and a little girl of about six, plus their parents. However, we were the only people between the ages of 11 and 40, and therefore instantly cool. The evolution of attention-seeking began.
     First, the little six-year-old swam by us, quite close to us in fact. I'm sure she was brushing our legs as she swam over then lingered right at our feet. My friend and I looked down at her a little uncomfortably when we realized she wasn't moving on.
     "I'm catching bugs in the pool!" she told us excitedly, holding up a plastic net that was about half her size.
     "That's great!" I said sincerely--the little black beetles in the pool had been grossing me out. Enthralled that we had spoken to her, the girl hurried off after explaining that the net wasn't actually hers. My friend and I resumed our conversation.
     To our left, the group of nine and ten-year-olds were holding swim races from one side of the deep end to the other. There were several rounds, and as they darted from the opposite end of the pool over to our side, we noticed they were getting closer and closer to us, often having to swim around our legs to touch the wall and finish the race. Every now and then, they glanced at us. At first, we though we were in their way, and while they raced back to the other end, quietly got up and resettled ourselves on the steps of the shallow in, giving them all the space they needed to race.
     But no sooner had we moved than the six-year-old returned. This time, her net was gone, and she didn't say anything. She simply stood there in the three foot water, watching us with a big grin on her face. My friend and I kept talking. Suddenly, she started twirling and flipping and splashing in front of us, her eyes glued to us in fixed admiration. Our voices were forced even lower as we talked, and I tried my best to ignore the girl. When the child swam right where we were sitting on the steps, my friend gave her a few polite compliments, and at last the girl swam away.
     "She so wanted to get attention," I told my friend quietly, "Wasn't that interesting?"
My friend agreed, and we kept on with our personal conversation.
     Shortly thereafter, something else started happening. After a few minutes, my friend glanced up, and in a slightly irritated voice, she asked,
     "Are those other kids moving towards us?"
Sure enough, the group of older girls had quit racing, and were no doing flips and handstands in the shallow end, slowly getting closer and closer to the two of us. They did their best not to look over at us, but we caught their glances several times. I became consumed in psychological fancy.
     "Look how they're trying to get attention from us, but it's so subconscious!" I told my friend. She had to agree--as much as they didn't realize it, or at least tried to hide it, their efforts to attract our admiration was blatant.
     So why did these kids crave our attention so badly? Just because we were older? "Cooler" than say their parents? Our were they just hungry for attention? All these questions I hope to figure out when I study phsycology. Until then, I guess I'll just have to wonder...