Beach Day Seven

Who in their right mind beach walks with JoJo?

Mr. Unbridled Mouth kept up a yelling, running commentary the entire stroll while I, in vain, tried to enjoy Tropical Storm Beryl's impressive wind, rip tides, high waves and dark cloud bands.

"Hey!" JoJo screamed, "That kid's adopted!" Pointing to an Asian child in a white family.

"Who adopts just one kid?" he yelled even louder in outrage.

Before I could answer, "Obviously someone smarter than me," he bellowed, "Hey, what about his brothers?" and then went into a spiel about horseshoe crabs and the undertow, never ever waiting for an answer to any of his daily million question barrage.

That's just JoJo.

Later he remembered his original sibling adoption thought and reminded me that he'd have died without Allen by his side, his Emotional Twin.

Lauren left this morning for her ten hour return trip to the DC area, leaving a hole here in our midst as it had been wonderful being with her.  Grandma's going up there next week for their annual Race For The Cure event in Ellen's name.  I won't get to see Lauren again until Daniel's wedding.

I stood at Ocean View, where the Chesapeake Bay meets the Atlantic Ocean some 50 years ago with my dad on a bridge looking down at flooded homes after a hurricane.  Watching this Tropical Storm blowing in is fascinating.  It's not going to hit here, it's projected to make landfall on the Georgia-Florida border but its outer bands are lashing the sea here.  We only got a little rain in the morning then the sun shone brightly but it was inadvisable to get in the water what with a strong undertow issue.  The wind gusts nearly knocking us all down.

Well it's been fun, loads of fun these past seven days, with almost zero behavior issues, but it's back to the real world now, my gardens and our life.

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And just like that it's already the next day and we're back home safe and sound.

I got babied.  Honestly.  Sarah, Jim, Yolie, Chuck, Lauren and Grandma tended to me bigtime.  I was a slug.

I'd gone to bed at ten last night, leaving Sarah up, who came to my room minutes after I was falling asleep, "Allen might need stitches," she calmly told me.

Because he's Allen and he'd been running and jumping, he landed hard on a rock and our one-handed Preston already had him cleaned up and bandaged before I could formulate a decent question.  One-handed.  I can't tend to medical crap with both hands.