The Beach Blog
The day before we left for Destin, Mommadrool and Pappy announced that they would be driving the little truck to the beach (it only seats two people). This left us to enjoy the 4-hour drive with StickyBun and the Fred entertaining us from the back seat.
10:20 AM
(Constant chatter from the back seat; rattling of sealed bagged beach toys)
SBS: (happily babbling a string of words that only he understands)
TS: Is he talking about Neitzche?
DH: I don't know.
TS: I still think he's speaking Mandarin.
ATF: Nana?
SBS: Nana?
SBS: Need scissors. Need scissors. Need scissors.
TS: You want that toy out of there, don't you, bud?
SBS: Need seashells. Need seashells. Need seashells.
TF: I need a tissue!
TS: Are we there yet?
TF: Why do seashells have clams?
DH: I may need scissors before long.
TS: Or a sedative.
TF: Nana! You're Mr. Smee from Captain Hook. Then comes Peter Pan and the Lost Boys.
SBS: I blue. I blue. I blue.
SBS: I want you to open it. I want you to open it. I want you . . .
TF: I'll open it for you.
DH: There's a plane!
SBS: Plane! Right there!
DH: Wish we were taking a plane. The trip would take 30 minutes.
TF: Need a tissue!
DH: Here--hang onto that one--we'll run out if you get one every time you sneeze.
TF: Achoo!
DH: Need a tissue?
TS: Troublemaker.
DH: There's an F-16. If we had an F-16, we could get to the beach in 8 minutes.
2 comments:
Visited with a friend last night who was describing her recent car trip to the beach with a wailing 11-month-old and a three-year-old. It made me think of your blog.
Yep! DH is still waiting for his car/plane hybrid.
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