Arrived Sunday at 4:30. Unpacked car, ate subs and pizza, and headed for the beach by 6 p.m.
Waves so big, thought we were in Ocean City, NJ. Heard rumors of riptides; kept eagle eye on M. Peevie who apparently has no fear of waves or being carried out to sea. Kept calling her to come closer to shore. Agreed with SIL that both of us were strong enough swimmers to rescue her. Agreed with BIL that neither of us felt like going for a swim at the moment.
A. Peevie's anxiety kicked into gear, and he hollered at M. Peevie over the breaking waves and stiff breeze to come in closer. "You're going to drown!" he screamed helpfully, and looked over at me with a worried expression on his face. I walked down to the wet sand and waved her in.
"M. Peevie," I instructed, "You must stay near the boys. Don't go out any farther than they go out." The boys were fairly safety-conscious, having learned a new word (riptide) in the last hour.
"But mom," M. Peevie said, "It's not even deep! It's barely up to my waist!"
"M. Peevie," I said sternly, "Either come in out of the water, or stay near the boys. Your choice." Fine, she harrumphed, and waded back out into the crashing surf.
Now it's Wednesday, and I fully admit: I could get used to this: hanging out at the pool, hanging out at the beach, playing tennis, taking naps, drinking adult beverages, and reading. Oh, and I got to watch several epis from a L&O:CI marathon featuring my boyfriend. Now that he's on cable, I don't get to see him as often as I used to.