Running with scissors

It’s Friday. And it’s hot out. Actually, it’s been mighty warm for pretty much every day since we moved here last July. I think we did NOT run the air for 2 weeks – maybe 3-but that’s it.  Anyhow,  it’s hot and sticky and Friday and I woke up thinking one thing: GO TO THE BEACH!!

Mr Darcy (who is the same guy as Mr Wonderful, unless I am talking about directions, in which case he’s my GPS unit) Ahem, Mr Darcy only has to work half days on Fridays (being that Sunday is a workday and all), so last year, we started our Friday tradition of going to the Island (that’d be South Padre Island to you outta towners).  He was at the office for a bit longer than his usual Friday time, but no worries – we ate lunch without him after my sweet boys mowed the lawn and I cleaned the house.  Mr BigStuff (that’d be the same guy as Mr Darcy and Mr Wonderful) got home around 2:00 today and we were off!

Let me backtrack to last year for just a moment. Walk with me in my mind….

Last year, we were newbies at the whole, I-live-here-and-can-go-to-the-beach-anytime-I-want-so-our-supplies- and-routine-are-different-now thing. We had some basic stuff: 2 beach chairs, 6 camping chairs for guests, beach towels, and sunscreen, etc. We also had a beach umbrella.  After our first weekend here, the beach umbrella got caught in a gust of wind and broke completely apart.  We bought another 8-dollar umbrella the next week at one of the beach shops-no problemo.

By the way, if you haven’t noticed, or you’ve never seen me in real life, you should know that I am pale. Really, really pale. Freckled and pale. I don’t tan. I tried in high school. I even applied ghastly amounts of baby oil to my body with hopes I would suddenly forget about burning and just get crazy tan.  It never happened.  I’m now older and wiser and cantankerous. I don’t like to lay out. I don’t like to burn. I don’t like to be hot. It wrecks my beach time. I say all of this to give you some background on why the umbrella is such a vital factor to my beach experience.

Every week, we would stare at the other people at the beach and see what all they brought. Many people had these fold-up cabana things. We watched them set them up – there are at least three different kinds – and watched them take them down. We planned, we schemed, we dreamed of having one for our very own.  We said to each other, next year, we are totally getting one of those. We knew exactly which one we wanted. We imagined perfect Fridays under our perfect cabana that never turned inside out with a wind gust and kept Janna pale and happy.

At Christmas, my wonderful parents gifted me with a new beach umbrella, beach hats and beach bag. I am very stylish. This beach umbrella was supposed to be awesome.  It had a little kicky-thing that you used to drive it into the sand and it tilted and had polka dots. Who doesn’t like polka dots at the beach?  Today was the first time to use it because we still don’t have that cabana. (Insert frowny face here)

We arrive  and I begin to set up my lair. Book, cute hat, water bottle..and finally, the umbrella. I take the bottom part and attempt to force it into the sand with the little kicky-thing. It moved about 1/4 inch. My man was afraid he’d break it if he tried (a reasonable fear, given his size and strength) and oldest son was chomping at the bit to give it a whirl. Oldest son moved it another 2 inches. Hubby couldn’t take this so he gave it a gentle shove with his foot and it went in about 6 inches. I inserted the top half and climbed oh-so-gracefully underneath so I could open the polka dot umbrella.

As I heard the melodious “click” of the umbrella locking into the bottom half, a hurricane force wind came out of nowhere.  Like a heat-seeking missile, the wind pinpointed my exact location and blew my umbrella. This would be the end of my story had I not had a viselike grip on the umbrella pole. Because of this, I was hoisted out of my chair about 4 feet, still holding the umbrella. I couldn’t stop myself. It was like a Mary Poppins blooper reel. But with less singing and dancing penguins.  I finally landed smack on my tailbone in the sand (which wasn’t actually soft, like you might be thinking) and still couldn’t let go of the umbrella, for some reason. I was wrestling the wind for my polka-dot umbrella and I was losing.

Finally, my oldest had to release my hand from the pole as my husband pulled me (again, ever so gracefully) from the sand. It wasn’t pretty. My tailbone throbbed. I wanted to cry from the pain, but the boys were all looking at me with the strangest expressions on their faces. It was as if they couldn’t decide if it was okay to laugh at Mom for the Tigger bounce across the beach she just did, or find me an ice pack for my nether-regions. I had only a moment to decide I couldn’t cry and whine, so I laughed. Relieved, they did too. I prayed no one nearby saw me. My super-sensitive man just shook his head at me. I am going to believe he still finds me cute and adorable after this.

Would you believe I tried that umbrella again? I did. The next time, I didn’t have it so high so the wind couldn’t find it. Mr Wonderful asked if I liked it in my umbrella cave. I couldn’t even see the water. I finally took the whole thing down and threw caution into the wind (did you catch that?) and sat in the sun. We had a great time.

My rear end still hurts. I’ll probably need to take some Advil. I don’t have a sunburn. We had a great time. I love the beach. It makes me so happy. I love Fridays. I love the beach. (did I already say that?) We really have to buy that cabana….

~Janna

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6 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. christina
    May 21, 2010 @ 21:42:33

    I knew it would make a great blog. Very funny! Hope you heal quickly!!

    Reply

  2. Nancy Briggs
    May 22, 2010 @ 08:26:45

    Janna, This story was so funny. It has already made my day this morning, You could write a book.

    Reply

  3. Amanda
    May 22, 2010 @ 16:20:33

    This would have won the 10K on AFV! Wish I could have seen it, and I wish I was at the beach! 🙂

    Reply

    • Kim
      May 23, 2010 @ 15:27:24

      Cute story! It sounds just like you. I can just see your sweet boys holding in their laughs until they were sure it was okay to laugh!

      Reply

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