A Day at the Beach. There’s Two Sides to Every Story.

We never go to the beach, but yesterday was gorgeous here. It was the perfect day for the beach. A cloudless sky, about 85 degrees, a little breezy. It was Memorial Day weekend. This is what people DO. We felt guilty, so we doused ourselves in sunscreen and went.

We packed up three kids (our two and my neice), five chairs, six towels, fifteen drinks, two large sandwiches, seven little bags of snacks, fifty-two beach toys and one umbrella. (This is why we never go to the beach.) I haven’t been to the beach since I had kids and been able to actually sit. I have to say that bringing the third kid is the answer to that problem. I got to sit and watch three children have a ball running up and down that beach playing in the sand and the waves. They played and played and played. Happily. (Why don’t we ever go to the beach?) Until three hours later when they decided that they were ready to go home. So we packed up the earlier mentioned list of items, had one temper tantrum about who was carrying what, had one meltdown that the walkway was too hot for bare feet, had two arguments about who was showering first (AHA! This is why we never go to the beach), showered off said children and went home. We now have sand from one end of the house to the other and all over the van. We have two buckets of shells that will go untouched until they just miraculously disappear. (hmm…I wonder how that happens?) And we have little tiny pieces of shell bits all over the shower floor. (Other reasons why we never go to the beach)

I guess I should be grateful to live so close to such a beautiful beach, but we take it for granted. I feel guilty again. I think when we move we will love to go to the beach. We will be grateful we have it to visit.