Sand in Bad Places

Back from a brief family jaunt to the Jersey Short -- Ocean City, to be precise. We haven't visited Jersey since our youngest was in diapers. I'd forgotten the various thrills to be found on the beaches and boardwalk.

When asked by our spawn to describe our destination, this is what I said:

"Picture our backyard deck stretching a mile in either direction. Now add a railing on one side, and grassy dunes beyond that. Beyond THEM, picture the beach and the ocean, with waves and swells you can jump and ride."

"On the other side of the boardwalk, picture lots of tiny little stores in which you can buy everything you can think of and some things you can't. Now take a deep breath and imagine you're smelling a hundred different kinds of food -- cotton candy and hot dogs and pizza with fifty toppings and a dozen assortments of seafood and hot pretzels with mustard and fried dough with confectioner's sugar and pierogies and hand-pulled saltwater taffy and fudge you can watch them stir in big copper vats and fresh-roasted peanuts and fresh-squeezed lemonade and quit trying to eat your sister's braid. You'll ruin your dinner."

"Now, at one end of all this amazing wonderfulness, imagine an amusement park. Go on...I dare you."

The aforementioned spawn? Were nearly overcome with joy. I was pleased they believed me, frankly, because my own description sounded just a little too good to be true. But I guess my kids haven't yet reached the age of skepticism, or maybe I haven't yet lied to them enough to make them cynical.

We had a good -- if inordinately sweaty, due to the whole "worst heat-wave in recent memory" thing -- time, though I'm still finding sand where I don't WANT to find sand. Dammit.

But two pieces of good news: The heat, she breaks TONIGHT. Dropping into the SIXTIES here. I may do something reckless and pagan to celebrate.

And PBW is running the NIFTIEST challenge EVAH.

I'm SO in. Who's with me?

SelahMarch.com