Life’s A Beach


My kids absolutely love the beach.  They could totally be beach bums, just like their mama. They can entertain themselves for hours on end in the sand.  They dig, they roll, they build, and they throw the stuff as long as is physically possible.  They remind me of the chicken that I roll in bread crumbs because every single inch of them is literally covered with sand by the time we leave at the end of the day.  I really don’t know how they do it, but they manage to get sand in every little crack and crevice on every little part of their bodies.  It’s always a good time when they have to take a big poop and need help wiping with a sandy butt.   Another crowd pleaser is when sunscreen has to be reapplied to a sand-covered face.  I try to silence their cries and complaints by telling them that I’m “exfoliating” their skin, for which they’ll later thank me.  Often times, it appears that we have actually brought the beach home with us when they remove their bathing suits — a mountain of sand just plops right there on the bathroom floor.  How in the world do they stand that?  That’s basically like wearing underwear stuffed with sandpaper.  I’m sure it will be a bittersweet memory when we are still finding clumps of sand in our car in a few weeks, but, hey, as the old saying goes, life’s a beach!


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