The beach!
We already have our next vacation planned, thanks to Poppy, a.k.a my dad.
On Thanksgiving, my dad said, "I'm thinking about renting an apartment at the beach for a week next summer. Mom and I would stay all week, and you guys could come and go whenever!"
The apartment he rented just happens to be the same one we stayed in every year when we were small. Those Ocean City vacations were the greatest - back when a week seemed like a lifetime. I have so many great memories from that time - my dad cursing as he packed the car at four in the morning, stopping at Wilbur's produce stand for cantaloupes on the way (nobody grew them sweeter), my grandmother's bottomless bag of candy and comparable animosity toward seagulls, who had a habit of pooping on her.
My sister and I would wake up at 5 am, ready to go to the beach, but would happily oblige my mother when she suggested that we go out on the porch and count the seagulls to pass the time. I recently realized that was a trick, and she was probably amazed when we fell for it, but we did.
After breakfast, we'd walk the half block to the beach. In between sand castles, my sister and I would jump waves with my dad. Later in the day, we would pack it up, take showers, and hit the boardwalk. We'd stroll to the inlet, taking in all the t-shirt shops and taffy joints along the way, then play a few rounds of skee-ball. We'd finish off the night with a ride on the carousel, a peanut butter dip-top (over chocolate soft serve, of course), and a ride back to 8th street on the tram.
Today, Dad called to confirm the dates of our family vacation. "You do have to bring the baby," he said, as if I could imagine leaving him at home. After all, it seems to me that that's the point - for all of us.
I think mom and dad are going to make pretty terrific grandparents.
On Thanksgiving, my dad said, "I'm thinking about renting an apartment at the beach for a week next summer. Mom and I would stay all week, and you guys could come and go whenever!"
The apartment he rented just happens to be the same one we stayed in every year when we were small. Those Ocean City vacations were the greatest - back when a week seemed like a lifetime. I have so many great memories from that time - my dad cursing as he packed the car at four in the morning, stopping at Wilbur's produce stand for cantaloupes on the way (nobody grew them sweeter), my grandmother's bottomless bag of candy and comparable animosity toward seagulls, who had a habit of pooping on her.
My sister and I would wake up at 5 am, ready to go to the beach, but would happily oblige my mother when she suggested that we go out on the porch and count the seagulls to pass the time. I recently realized that was a trick, and she was probably amazed when we fell for it, but we did.
After breakfast, we'd walk the half block to the beach. In between sand castles, my sister and I would jump waves with my dad. Later in the day, we would pack it up, take showers, and hit the boardwalk. We'd stroll to the inlet, taking in all the t-shirt shops and taffy joints along the way, then play a few rounds of skee-ball. We'd finish off the night with a ride on the carousel, a peanut butter dip-top (over chocolate soft serve, of course), and a ride back to 8th street on the tram.
Today, Dad called to confirm the dates of our family vacation. "You do have to bring the baby," he said, as if I could imagine leaving him at home. After all, it seems to me that that's the point - for all of us.
I think mom and dad are going to make pretty terrific grandparents.
posted by babyoog at 6:17 PM
.gif)
3 Comments:
he's actually cute. really cute! i've never seen a sonogram that was cute. good job.
um, wrong paste. delete that one.
i meant to say:
that sounds almost identical to the OC family vacations we used to take when i was a kid...
except that we camping and were aloud to go swim in the surf - the same
Post a Comment
<< Home