The Family on Holiday

Being the mountain dwellers that we are, we rarely get to a beach of any sort, much less one with salt water. That, and the fact that Sam hates the beach. I think the last time we were at the ocean was November, 2000. And I was 8.5 months pregnant with Luke. Sad, isn't it? That also means that Luke and Micah have never had the joys of sand in their underpants coupled with saltwater on their tongue.



We rememdied that oversight on our part over the weekend. We have friends in Delaware and headed to the coast to visit them. Since they have 5 kids, we were concerned how our 4 would mesh with them and planned just 2.5 days of togetherness. I mean, 9 kids in one house is just asking for all kinds of interestingness to take place. And that's putting it as kindly as I can.



(But for the record, those 9 kids never once had an altercation of any sort. Not a raised word, not a raised fist, nary a reason for parental intervention. We consider this a miracle of the major sort. And plan to go back to see if we can experience this again.)



So on Friday we headed to the sandy beaches of Delaware. We consider it ocean despite that it's really a bay. Remember, to us inlanders anything with salty water is considered ocean. Even the Great Lakes.



Becky was terrified of sharks infesting the waters and just waiting for her white flesh to step in before feasting, so she sat where the water meets the sand and combed for shells. She found some really cool ones which Micah promptly dumped back into the ocean. She was not amused with her brother.





Josh waded out up to his chin (maybe even his lower lip) before we told him to get the heck back to dry land so we could lecture him about a little thing called undertow that would drag him out to sea quicker than we could go rescue him. (Why yes, we are the mountaineers on holiday. I'm sure the locals got great amusement from us.)



Luke was afraid that the water would rip off what was left of his waving toenail and refused to step into the surf. I could tell by his cries of pain that it wasn't pain at all and reminded him that there's a difference between pain and feeling weird. It was the latter and didn't hurt at all. After that he gingerly limped into the water (there were no crashing waves) and had a great time before combing the beaches for shells. The boy lives for fascinating rocks and such. He also found some cool ones, but to Luke a white one is cool, a yellow one is cool, a flat one is cool...





Micah was not amused at the water lapping at his feet when he did nothing to anger it. We drug him in kicking and screaming, he got a mouth full of sea water and decided that he could not be forced to live with such a family ever again. This scenario lasted for maybe 20 minutes. After that Luke was able to declare frequently "Mom, Micah is headed out to sea!" (This became my favorite quote from the weekend.) The boy loves water, what can we say?





My swimsuit plunged just a tad lower than any shirt that I own and flesh that had never seen sun before is now crispy and deep fried. There's nothing quite like burned boobies, let me tell you. There are no pictures of this, sorry. It's for your own good. But I'll share this for your viewing pleasure instead.