Last Thursday I got all three pairs of Crocs for $10. Since my feet are aching a lot more lately due to tile floors and baby, I had to succumb. The pink ones are just for around the house though. It took me about 10 thrift stores to finally find some in my size, but then one store had all three pairs!
This was my second attempt. The third time I let my hair dry thoroughly and used a lot of hair spray before making the bun. The curls seemed to last a little longer.
A couple weeks ago my dad and a buddy of his came for a visit to watch the Blue Angels beach airshow. The weather was perfect. Not.
But since we spent about 12 hours at the beach that day, there was a lot of people watching to be had. Check this guy in his awesome hot pants. And yes, those are whitey tighties underneath. Which although ugly, I was thankful for.
Then this other bohemian looking surfer guy pulled up on his beach cruiser and took out two pouches about the size of two paperback novels and turned it into a hammock. Kinda jealous if I do say so myself.
And this is two grown men and one grown pregnant woman huddled under the beach umbrella as another "squall" came through. By the end of the day the umbrella was broken thanks to the wind. The upside was that the Blues did manage to get in a quick show, and although we were at the beach for 12 hours and I didn't put on a lick of sunscreen, I didn't get burnt. But I also didn't get the tan I was hoping for. :(
And can I take a moment to rant about annoying children at the beach? Since I was going to be at the beach forever, I decided to try and nap/relax a bit. I dug out a shallow trench and headrest so I could recline some. And to claim the space at my sides I had two camp chairs, one on each side of me, to make some personal space. There was about a foot between me and the chairs. Apparently a foot looks like just enough room for a rowdy 3 year old to run through. More than once. Because I was the path of least resistance between the water and his camp, about 20 feet behind me. Three year olds have no sense of beach propriety. And apparently his mother had little sense of discipline, because she was constantly begging and bartering with him to listen to her. In fact, one time she had to pick him up and drag him back, as he was flailing and screaming. And then laughing. Obviously he was in no real distress. And then I hear his mom say "Are you kicking me? and then laughing and tickling him. You better believe if my child is kicking me and throwing a tantrum I will not be laughing. I will be beating his behind.
So the first time or two he almost trampled me, I ignored it and tried to shoot his mom or whoever was with him some stink eye. And then once my sheet was sandy from wind and myself, I decided to get up, shake it out and move the chair closer to me. More like 6-8 inches away. This is no small feat for a prego to crawl in and out of a sand trench. No sooner had I flopped back down then that little turd ran by anyway. Kicking about a cup of sand onto me. And the lady with him (not his mom) says very calmly "sorry" and keeps on. Oh I was ticked. There was no polite and expected "Oh it's ok" from me. There was silence. And there was no reprimand to the hooligan, just a quick perfunctory apology from the adult.
Kids (and their parents) these days!
Well, I guess that's enough whining and complaining for now :) And since I've been sitting here for a couple minutes contemplating and can think of nothing else to say, I reckon it's better to just sign off.
Until next time...
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