So, when I was little, every summer we packed up my parents’ little unassuming Honda hatchback and my grandparents’ gargantuan, couch-on-wheels tank of a maroon Dodge Dart and headed down to Cherry Grove for a week. Having a child’s distorted sense of time passage, this trip took approximately seven years. Actual time: four hours. Eventually, we’d get close enough to roll down the windows and smell the ocean. Soon after that, I could see bits and pieces of the blue water peeking out from between the beachfront houses.
We spent the week swimming in the ocean, building sand castles, whooshing down the waterslides, kicking skeeball’s butt at the arcade, coming in at +56 at the putt-putt course and sleeping like the dead. Our rent-a-house was never centrally air-conditioned and a hermit crab once savagely attacked my little sister, but we had my grandmother’s super-yummy potato salad and the humming window units became part of the soundtrack of my childhood.
I hope we can give Evie memories like these of her childhood. They are absolutely priceless.
We gave it an honest try last week. Check it out…
“Hmm. So this is the ocean. Well, I can swim in that, no problem.”
“It is important to stay hydrated while frolicking in the sun. Also, water bottles are hella crinkly and fun. Also, this chair only fits me. Evie. That rocks.”
Two of the men whom Evie has fastened securely in her clutches, Uncle Eddie and Pop.
Evie, honey, I love you so much, sweetie-pie. Would it kill you to smile for a picture once in while? You don’t have to figure everythingout right away, you know. Whatever. You’re your father’s child. (Maybe, as the only kid in the pool submerged in a quasi-ladybug-shaped, canopied floatation device, you feel stupid. Noted.)
Grandparents just glow, don’t they? Also, hilariously, the baby’s facial expression vaguely foretells of poop.
Oh, Evie. Love you, little chica.
Extra-added bonus: Fourth of July pics! Last year, a two-month-old, very disoriented and startled Evie woke up in the middle of a room of strangers and vowed never to joyfully celebrate another holiday again. Unrelatedly, she started the neverending droolfest that continues to this day on that night.
Anyway, Evie has rescinded her vow and actually likes our nation’s birthday now. Love it or leave it, baby!
“Oh, really, Mother. Fireworks are not at all scary and there is NOT a snake lurking on the patio. Come outside and enjoy this moment, dammit!”
“Yes. Call the art museum. No, seriously. I haven’t seen anything better than this hanging there.”
Honestly, could you refuse this face anything? No. No, you could not.
Next year will be even better. And the year after that, and so on. But I will still not swim in the ocean, I don’t care. Y’all can have it.