I’ll just take a moment to tell you about yesterday. It was a typical Saturday morning, I went to the gym early and then did my petco/payless/vons circuit. Beth (the artist formerly known as YOU. enough already) called me at Vons to see what wonderous adventures we could dream up for a perfect afternoon in the predicted heat wave. But alas, I was unavailable.
We had a karate tournament (cue dramatic music).
It’s a long story, but the abbreviated version is that the last time my son participated in a tournament, he was in a group of 8 kids and they awarded 7 trophies. Ouch. He was not keen to return, but a mere two years later, there we were!
It was great. I experienced the typical mom at a sporting event range of emotions:
Wait. Beam. Swell. Burst. Cringe. Adore.
In between, there was lots of “shhhhhhh” and “I said I don’t have any snacks!” and “cheer for your sister/brother, you self-involved little shit!”
Anyway, it was joyous. We had promised the kids a celebratory dinner at what we call
But I had had the inspired idea to pack up our beach stuff just in case, and it was so easy to convince them that what we needed after those 3 hours at the dojo was not to sit inside of Greece, but to hit the beach.
Why yes, I do rock.
We had dinner at the usual spot, and scored great parking AND the front row seats overlooking the ocean. I wish I had taken pictures of our ice cold pitcher, fish tacos, prizes from the claw machine, kid/dog love fest. But I left my stuff in the car. In fact, when we ordered the beer, the 14 year old waiter asked for my ID. I told him I had to get it from the car, and he said nevermind.
After dinner we retrieved our beach gear and my camera, and it went a little something like this:
My peeps played frisbee
My girl can’t resist the ocean’s pull. And bathing suits are for chumps.
My next post will be about this guy
This looks like a yoga pose, but turns out what I thought was an orange lifeboat being lowered from the pier is actually the Frisbee leaving his hands! I wish I knew how to put an arrow in there
And the obligatory photo of mom and dad smooching. Which we do pretty much all of the time, not just when one of the kids grabs the camera and demands it.
A perfect evening.
Now let me go write this bad boy, would ya?