is what I would need to accurately describe what I experienced this evening.
I am ending the day peacefully. I have a hot teapot full of rooibos toffee tea. I have AOL tuned into the baroque music station. I am showered and in my jammies, and my offspring are all playing peacefully before bed.
I spent the day pretty nicely as well. One of my two sorority sisters that I'm still in touch with, Christa S, and her family came to Florida and we spent the day at the beach with our families. It was really nice to see her and my kids actually had a great time. I was worried that they would be afraid, last time we were there little Satchmo was terrified of the waves. But all was well, sandcastles were built, waves were crashed into with great abandon and a lot of fun was had by everyone.
When we got home everyone had the requisite sand deposits requiring bathing and as I prepared for the great family hose down I ran into the bathroom to use the toilet. My husband comes in, and seeing me naked laughs and says "you have shells stuck to your butt". I laugh and stand up, turn around to see them in the mirror.
Indeed. I have really A LOT of small shells and BITS of shell stuck to my butt. WHAT THE?
He laughs and tries to pry one off.
I laugh, and try to pry one off.
They aren't stuck. They are embedded.
I hop in the shower and slather myself with liquid CARESS which many of you may know has the viscocity of valvoline 10w30. They won't come off with rubbing. So I begin to dig. And scratch. Oh dear lord some of them are really crammed into my skin. I end up spending like 15 minutes in the shower digging the shells out of my skin. The only thing I can figure is that all the scooching around on the shore playing with my kids, I crammed them into my skin. Which is far better than it could have been, I guess.
What is possibly even more bizarre is that as I hopped in the shower I called "DAMN I should've had you take a picture of it, for my blog."
Because that is what you people need to see.