Friday, June 11, 2010
The Beach, The Bus, The Bolted Door
(If perchance you are wondering at the daily posting of late... the explanation would be a lone man who misses his family (and wants to see pictures), and a lone woman with kids on her hands and photo class requirements to fulfill. )
This morning we headed out to the beach to play and kick soccer balls, throw rocks and eat sand. It was a beautiful, cloud covered day with shades of gray and the sun peeping out here and there to warm us. We watched this woman gather seaweed, and threw rocks at other rocks, presumably trying to ward off the little skeevy shrimp size bugs that skitter everywhere as you play.
Next up was taking the bus into the city to get groceries and have lunch. By this time the humidity had risen considerably, sending spirally springs of curls straight up out of my pulled back hair and making me look all askew and wild as I herded not one, not two, but three (not that many to some of you, but here it always draws stares and comments) children onto the bus. I sat still and listened to the hum of chatter in the background, feeling conspicuous and uncomfortable and very hot.
We made it home and I grabbed the small window of time to grab a few particular shots I needed, during the most opportune time, when one sits still and can't run off... toilet time. Yes, he is sitting on the toilet and I shamelessly snapped away, promising m&m's at the end if he would cooperate, which he did.
Later, in the evening, we went to a friend's apartment for a wonderful dinner she had prepared, enjoying ourselves for a full thirty minutes (maybe), when our sweet little girl promptly shut the bedroom door and locked herself in. No keys. No outside access. The result: a broken down door. That would be broken-down door number two for little Scout this month. She had just previously done the same thing in our bathroom. They really need to get us some keys around here.
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Random, but I love that Dorothy has the very same rain boots as Sadie. How I wish they could go puddle jumping together. But even still I feel connected. Oh, I know that dreaded feeling when your child disrupts someone else's world/property. I faintly remember my children peeing (a couple times) and bleeding on items in all three of your PA apartments. Ah, it is good to be known and loved.
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