Seems like we only get Miss M to the beach once a year for an hour or so. She’ll have such a different childhood than her Florida-born-and-raised parents. I pictured her running around in the sand and chasing the waves this year, but she really just wanted to be held. After a while we got her to stand on her own and to go for a walk up and down the beach with us each holding a hand. If we let go, she got upset until we took her hand again. Not quite the beach trip I imagined, but it was nice to get a little sun-kissed.
Inspiration . . .
Confessions of a Young Married Couple
Left of the Center, Against the Grain