So this past Thursday my mom, JHT, and I took off for a day trip to the good 'ole Jersey shore. I don't know what it is about this place, but it really relaxes me. I didn't know how much fun it would be to chase Jack around being as pregnant as I am, but when we got there I realized how I should never have worried.
I know that Jack is very much his father's son. They love hiking and exploring nature together. It makes me smile though to know that my boy is also a beach bum.
My mother rented a beachfront hotel room for the afternoon. I had told her the night before that I wanted to go, but was concerned about my bladder and the small infant that slept upon it. We walked into this room- and Jack's first comment "mommy, I smell sumpin". Typical beach hotel. No matter, it was only a vessel for all of the shit I didn't need on the actual beach.
We hit the Wawa before we got to the beach to eat some sandwiches. In any other circumstance I would hate having sand in my food, but on the beach I just consider it exfoliation for my mouth. I shoved down my hoagie because Jack wanted to greet the waves. We raced down and after the initial shock of the water, Jack layed on his stomach facing out and waited for the waves to hit him.
I was smart to bring some cars with me and was so happy to see my boy lying on the sand racing and burying them. May the green car named "Ca-jigga" rest in peace as he is now property of the ocean.
The nicest part was that no one was really there. Jack could safely roam around and be free- It took him some time to realize this concept. Every 20 steps or so, he would look back with raised eyebrows asking for approval. It didn't take too long for him to understand, and he planted himself at the water's edge with his toys.
Did I mention the seagulls? My Lord they are fat. They all had quited the summer. We all walked to the water at one point; during that time they went in my backpack and took 2 bags of chips and Jack's half eaten sandwich. Then after that feast, we thought we were safe only to find that they came back, opened my mom's bag, and pilfered her bag of twizzlers. At that point, there was at all times a "watch-gull" near our stuff. These birds probably wanted to see what the retards would leave out next. The only time I worried was when they tried to take off with a pack of wipes. I yelled and had my mom chase them. Yes, for wipes.
At around 5 we headed back to the room and showered. We walked down the boards to where my family's shore house is. Well, its no longer my family's, but it is the house I went to until my great-grandmother died. This house, right on the boardwalk, with a front yard big enough for football games, belongs to someone else. I hope they have kids, whoever they are. This house has something like 9 bedrooms and back-staicases and was the best place for hide and seek. When we got older, we would stay on the 3rd floor. You could climb out on the roof and smoke the cigarettes that you had ganked from your parents. It was a mile walk from anything important. Close enough- but still far enough removed.
After mourning the house for a few moments, we walked down the street to take the jitney. It was jack's first ride and he loved it. To quote my mom- "Forget the rides next summer-just take the jitney!"
Finally at our destination- we scoffed down boardwalk pizza (did I mention the seagulls at our feet?), ice cream, and bought fudge. We took the Jitney home, and then left.
I always love a day down the shore, but I never feel like I get enough.
On the ride home, I kept turning around to see the lights run across Jack's face. His face windblown, hair standing up, and some crusty ice cream on his cheek. Day well spent.