Archive for June 14th, 2008

My dad and his lady are visiting. They called a week ago and said “flights are $300 from LA if we fly on Thursday, we’re coming!” And I’m like, “Um, OKAY!”

So, a quick scramble to clean the house, because “the fur was walking” as my 5 year old says, regarding the dust bunnies blowing across the floor, a big grocery shopping for low sugar, high protein and fruit for alot of pies (dad loves fruit pie), and change the sheets and suddenly they were on my doorstep.

My girls have been angels but are at their dad’s for the weekend so now we have some time to do grown up things until their return on Monday morning.

We spent the day at our biggest beach here on the island, where the waves crash and at low tide we can walk out to a poison ivy infested island. I marvel at the fact that Red is now comfortable picking up dead things. I prefer it to be dead things with a shell and not the sting ray I had to bribe her with Twizzlers, NOT to touch, poke or prod.

Because for the first time I was not their sole caretakers on the beach, there were two other pairs of eyes on them and offers to take them on a walk up the beach while I sat and relaxed a bit, I took advantage of rolling over.

As a single mother at the beach, I generally sit facing forward, eyes glued to my children while they dig in the sand, boogie boarding and romping around. In other words, I have to make sure they don’t fight or throw sand into each other’s eyes, drown, or get picked up by the ferocious seagulls that will actually steal your beach bag if you leave it unattended with a crumb of food in it.

So, I gratefully turned over and got some sun on my very white backside.

And now I have a burned ass. Scorched back of the legs.

My mother arrived and took one look at me and said “You need some sunscreen” and I shook my head and said “no, I just need a little sun here and then I will turn over.”

I can’t tell you, having grown up on the beach in southern California, how many times I heard that from my mother, “you need sunscreen” and I ignored her and then I was limping around with soft cashmere outfits because everything else felt like I was being sanded by an electric sander with #10 sandpaper.

So, now my ass hurts.

The moral of the story is that I never listen to my mother and I hope my kids don’t follow suit.

So far it isn’t looking good, considering that Red came back from her walk carrying an armload of what I suspect was disease infested seagull feathers and clamshells with dead meat still sticking to the insides.

At least they DO let me put their sunscreen on them.

I wonder how many of us still do things our parents warned us not to do when we were kids.

postscript: this picture above is not me. nor am I burned that much. but for some reason, I thought i was crazily funny.

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