My husband just sent these pictures to me. I’d taken them on his phone (I didn’t want to take mine to the beach and risk ruining it), and after I took them, I clearly forgot all about them. Until now.
These were taken one warm and sunny afternoon. We went to
the beach, knowing that the tide was going out. Well, as I sat on the beach,
the warm breeze and the bright sun made me have to squint. I didn’t want to
squint; it was much easier to simply close my eyes. And take a little snooze.
But before I dropped off completely, I did make my boys get
out of the water. As I said, the tide was going out and I had visions of them (the
9yo especially) drifting off to sea, or getting sucked under water by the
undertow.
So I instructed them to play in the sand close to where I
was, as I was engaged in examining the back of my eyelids. As I slipped into my
nap, they were busily digging holes, and had drawn an actual line in the sand
to demarcate who could use what sand. Whatever. I wasn’t caring about that. I
was just caring about a little rest. I’d had a rough day already, what with the
bike ride and a visit to the pool. I had earned my nap.
When I was startled awake a few minutes later by
blood-curdling shrieks and laughter, this is what I found: One child had buried
himself and was in process of digging out; simultaneously the other one was
pelting him with sand. Quality supervision right here. I’m such a good mommy.
The red welts on their backs only lasted a few hours, I promise. And no worries...the 11yo was able to free himself and repaid his brother in full.
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