Later, the kids cautiously approached me and asked if we could go to the beach. I assumed that this was a peace offering, because my kids know that nothing soothes a savage mommy like sand between her toes by the big, blue sea. Then they reminded me that last weekend I had promised that the very next time we went to the beach, we would set out to find the secret beach.
I might be mean when they eat my chili, but I'm usually good for a promise. So we parked at the beach in the usual spot, but instead of ambling down toward the sand and surf before us, we headed south in search of the secret beach that my boy had visited one day when he was at the beach with friends.
We started off toward the pier
and then continued right past that bad boy, pausing to look back at our regular stomping grounds
Secret? Yes. Secluded? Not so much. This area of the cliffs was crawling with peeps, perhaps due to the conspicuous absence of booze prohibiting life guards. And me without my cooler.
While we traversed the moon-like, criminally damaged cliffs, my boy eagerly described the passageways we would soon encounter. I was dubious.
But then we arrived here...
Always strategizing, these two
What a great spot. So what if it is just as easily reached by street and staircase ... our route was so much more adventurous! The kids swam and jumped and scrambled and gave me heart attacks and then went back and jumped some more. It was a really special, unexpected afternoon.
We celebrated our triumphant return with fish tacos, fries, and a screwdriver.