This year, the day was bright and sunny. We piled the curb high with
Then we hopped in the car and went down to the Farmer's Market. (Where I stocked up on soap for the boys' latest obsession with lathering themselves in the tub, and Rawthentic chocolates... o.m.g. I need willpower. Too tasty.) Each time we bring the boys we swear we'll never do it again without short pieces of rope to tie them to us. And muzzles. Maybe straitjackets. They go everywhere, touching everything, and smashing into everyone. All at once and usually in different directions. We have talks with them in advance, reminding them of rules and personal space and putting their listening ears on. But it's always a madhouse. I grew up in Farmer's Markets... I don't remember mom tearing out her hair or threatening to thrash us. But those were different times. It wasn't as crowded in our little town. And we were a bit older. Or I have a selective memory. (Note to self: call mom.)
We made it out of the Market alive but not quite sane and herded the
We drove fairly aimlessly... 30 minutes in one direction, then back and veering off and circling around. We went down roads we hadn't been on in years. Followed one until it ended at a golf course on the ocean. When I started muttering, Elliot piped up from the back seat, "All roads have to end somewhere, mama!". Sage little creature. We meandered around until we ended up at a beach. And then the
|He promises me he was saving Felix, not getting ready to toss him!|
The tides were coming in, quickly. My boys made a wall to buy themselves some time. It was a valiant effort. But, predictably, an epic fail. There might have also been some burying of a small child in the sand, necessitating a speedy save when the area was flooded.
Had a gourmet supper of hotdogs and fries on a boardwalk and then came home, wiped. And saw that most of our
We sure soaked up the sun, and I'll sleep good tonight. (You hear that boys - stay in your own freaking rooms, ok!) And hopefully we can do it all again real soon.