Me and my brand new iPhone 5 both got smashed yesterday!
One of the smashings was entirely my fault, and the other was only partially my fault. I’ll let you guess which was which. It’s a shame, because it was an otherwise glorious day at the beach with BFF and her kids. It ended with all of the children splashing in the rain-pelted ocean, diving beneath the white caps, thunder rumbling on the horizon. What? Gin fosters courage.
Honestly, the morning had been less than stellar. Hot Firefighter Husband took the Diva to a Labor Day paddleboarding event to raise money for autism research. (Autism, you may remember from last week, does NOT cause people to assault small children in Best Buy bathrooms.) While they were away, I cooked breakfast for the other two chilldren (twice, because they kept getting hungry), cleaned the kitchen (twice), collected a comforter’s worth of dog hair, completed a load of laundry, picked up five piles of dog poop, walked Buddy the Wonder Dog, and scraped the first layer of urine-scented grime off the guest bathroom floor. Lots of Laboring on Labor Day.
Then Husband came home all sun-happy to help get packed up for the beach, and he said, “Let’s have a nice relaxing picnic at the beach!” and I was all, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? because a picnic at the beach is as relaxing as, I don’t know, getting a root canal? Although I personally would not mind getting a root canal if it came with proper anesthesia and pain killers.
But a picnic! That means planning who will eat what, and going to the store, and finding utensils, and serving food in the sand, and fending off birds, and eating gritty food, and trying to keep cold food from turning rancid under a sun that’s burning like mercury.
“How about this?” I suggested. “How about we tell the kids to order whatever they want at the club, and we just sit on the beach and drink gin? We can bring our own gin. I can manage a liquor picnic.” So that’s exactly what we did.
And in this way, the smashings hardly mattered. Well, until today. But the memory of yesterday remains all silvery and clear, one of those days I’ll keep in my heart forever, unblemished by the splintery iPhone lens through which I must view the day’s pictures.