Remember last year, when we went on vacation?
Right. Well, we did it again.
Don’t worry. It was much less dramatic than it was last year. It was mild.
But an entertaining story nonetheless.
So, we pile three kids, a mountain of snacks, and a fresh batch of Potette liners into the swagger wagon for our drive to South Carolina. The drive was blissfully uneventful.
And then… we went to the beach. It really wasn’t warm enough to be in the ocean, but it’s not possible to explain that to 2 eager four-year-old children. Buddy and Goose are playing and splashing in the surf. I notice about half a dozen police officers strolling toward us slowly, eyes trained on the water. I turn and see the source of the problem. There’s a naked man in the water. He’s drunk… or something and also headed in our general direction. Though he was not super-close, we bring the kids up the beach to play in the sand so as to not interfere with law enforcement.
The gentleman in the water was clearly off his rocker and eventually comes up on the beach, a struggle ensues, followed by a squeal and the nudie crumples into a heap on the sand for a moment before they cuff him and take him away. To be fair, I didn’t actually see a Taser, but I assume that’s what happened, as I have never seen anyone take a fall quite like that before. It was spectacular.
What about the kids, you ask? Are they traumatized?
No. They couldn’t have cared less that the man was in his birthday suit. Naked guy… big deal.
Police officers? No lights on. Again, unfazed.
Were they bent that they weren’t allowed in the water?
Yes, yes they were.
Buddy yelled repeatedly to the officers, “Can we go back in the water yet?…. What about now?”
Seriously, all they gave a dang about was getting back into the frigid water for more wave splashing.
Fast forward two days…
I am putting the kids down for a nap. I cover them up, one at a time, starting with Goose…. Bear…. Buddy…. as I’m backing out of the door, Goose sits upright, acts like she’s trying to pull a piece of hair or fuzz out of her mouth. She looks worried.
Me: Goosie, what’s the matter? Got fuzz in your mouth?
Goose: No… *pause*… my money is gone.
Me: What money?
Goose: My gray money.
Me: Ok, where did it go? Let’s check your bed.
Goose: Nooooo… *starts crying*
Me: What’s wrong?
Goose: I ate it! *cries harder*
Me: (thought bubble) I’m soooo not getting a nap today. Crap. And where on earth did she get a coin?
Me: (Actual words) Ok, can you breathe?
Without relaying the entire conversation: she could breathe and swallow. I wasn’t much worried. It’s small enough to pass. No big thang…. except she kept insisting that it was stuck in her throat…. hmmmm….should probably have that addressed.
To the ER we go. Ever wonder what a quarter might look like in a 4 year old’s stomach?
As I suspected, the doctor told us that the quarter would exit on its own eventually and would likely go unnoticed as it would be wrapped in a package and flushed away.
The next day, we are out and about when we come upon some sort of craft fair and some bounce houses. Naturally, the kids beg to go bouncing.
Me: Now, hold on guys. Let me find out how much it costs. I don’t know that I have any cash.
Goose: I got cash. *rubs tummy*
Does a 4 year old understand irony? Indeed, she does.
I spent the next several days standing nearby the toilet hoping to hear a clink but it never happened. I really wanted to see it, but I wasn’t willing to dig for it for obvious reasons.
It was a Mississippi quarter, if you were wondering.
The rest of the trip was much less theatrical and therefore, not worth rehashing.
It was really a fun trip, we enjoyed family time immensely, and I was exhausted and glad to be home when we returned. That was nearly two weeks ago and I still haven’t unpacked, so if anyone would like to come over, unpack, do all of my laundry, and finish the 7 other blog posts that I’ve started and not finished… be my guest.