Beach by Russ

Did you miss me? No? Well, I'll try harder to be missed next time.

We just returned from our annual trip to Charleston. I was going to bellyache about my sister always managing to disappear to pump whenever there was something that needed to happen. Or how she only once helped with all the children (she made breakfast, e.g. put some peanut butter on bagels for the kids). Or that she never cleaned up anything that wasn't baby related, or took out the trash, or anything that wasn't specifically mandated that she, or her husband, do. Which is to say, they cooked dinner twice (really, he cooked and cleaned twice). But then I saw the last post that I did was also bitching about dear ol' sis, so I decided to change the topic.

(Damn, if The Wife and I traded sisters, I would never go to visit the outlaws. It would be too painful, but would supply plenty of blog posts.)

The first day at the beach started off with a bang. Or a painful zap more accurately. I was posted deep to ensure that the boys didn't get too brave and wade out where they could get above their heads or knocked over by a large way. Most of us took turns out there (you don't need any hints who didn't!). So I'm bobbing out there minding my own business, occasionally looking for dolphins or at the boats as they pass, when it felt like I got hit with a hickory switch across my upper back.

Jellyfish. After stifling several choice words, I wade out of the water and alert all to the presence of jellies. My father offered up the boys to pee on my back (urine being a folk remedy to ease the sting) and I had to shoo away two excited little boys. I decided the temporary easing of the sting, verses the yearly ribbing I would get made it not worth it.

Miss L came to daddy's aid. She washed my sting (with sea water) and scrubbed it with sand until we went home. I'm not sure it did much good, but she was cute doing it.

All the while, my sister and BIL sat in the tent with their seven week olds. Who brings seven week olds to the beach? One of whom has spent half of his post birth life in the NICU.