J & I spent one last hot day at the beach this weekend. Okay, when I say last I mean first. J doesn’t really like the beach. He’s a bit too antsy to sit still in the hot sun. He’s also a bit too pasty. The first time we went to the beach together he developed a nasty burn that caused a giant bubble on the back of his calf. He actually went to the doctor for that (come to think of it, that may have been the last time he’s been to the doctor).
Anyways, I convinced him to go to the beach with good beach snacks and a bucket o’margaritas. Tricky, aren’t I? We got there early, finished our iced coffees, and, once I was confident there was a public bathroom, we had a drink. Hey, it was 11am!
Speaking of bathrooms, I firmly believe every beach should have a bathroom and a parking lot. A few years ago we went to the Cape for the day, and went to this awesome beach. The sign said 30 minute parking, but I thought “Who goes to the beach for 30 minutes? If I park far from the sign, I’ll be fine.” I was INCORRECT! (You’re welcome for the $50, Chatham. I’m sure you needed it more than I did).
Where was I? Oh, the early morning margaritas. We had a few, ate some lunch, and dipped our feet in the frigid water. Seriously, it was frigid. Even children were running out screaming that it was too cold. It numbed your feet, but not enough so they didn’t hurt. Thank God there was a bathroom — I was NOT peeing in that water.
We had a lovely day, and stayed on the beach discussing life until lobster boy turned a pretty shade of red. Then we had to go home so I could apply a half a bottle of aloe to his back. I think that was the last beach day of the summer, which is kind of sad, but exciting because we’re closer to your favorite blogger’s birthday (that’s me, by the way).