Greetings from Another Planet

It was well over seventy degrees yesterday, in southern California, and I managed to convince The Husband to tear himself away from his mistress and escort us to the beach. The children had the day off, and Sophie, being Sophie, woke up mysteriously better after four days of seizures and sweating and drooling and me on my knees beside her bed crying for mercy. We packed up the car and headed over.

The water was very, very cold and very, very greenish-blue, and there were just a handful of people hanging out. Women were still in bikinis, though, and some children even braved the water. My boys immediately began digging in the sand. The Husband and Sophie went walking.

I stared at the surfers who stared out at the waves.

Have I ever told you how much I love surfers? It's definitely what I'm going to be in my next life -- that's what karma is for, right?

The Big O insisted on setting up the umbrella even though it's missing a crucial line of tube.

Henry is starting to look a little glamorous of late, no?

He's still mine, though. Thank goodness.

The Mermaid was, once again, intent on walking into the ocean.

The beach is one of the few places where Sophie is somewhat independent (meaning I don't hold on to her for dear life). She'll wander off but at least if she falls, the sand is soft and cushioned. Nonetheless, Henry was very protective.

Man? Woman? I told you we live on another planet.

This guy and his tattooed girlfriend and their muscled buddy looked threatening, but when I eavesdropped on their conversation, this is what I heard: Man, this big hole right here is dangerous. We need to mark it so those little kids don't fall in. Appearances are deceptive.

She's elusive and deceptive, that girl in the pink hat. We never, never know what's next.