Finally. My feet wallowed in the sand and I breathed in the delicious salty air from the ocean. Vacation had mercifully arrived. And then I looked up and saw the man in the picture to the left. Except he was bent over picking up seashells. Really? I think I threw up in my mouth a little. Wearing something like that should be against the law. Please promise never to ask me how I got this picture.
Eyes burning, we steered clear and put our chairs down on the beach. Moments later a huge dog (which wasn’t even allowed to be on the beach), ran over and dropped a load 3 feet from my lounger. Really? The dog’s owner, a waify rulebreaker, looked over at me and shrugged. We got up and moved to an empty spot.
Within 10 minutes a group of five women came and placed their loungers about 8 feet behind ours. Hello? Encroachment. Three minutes after that the moaning began. I thought the must be reading Fifty Shades of Grey, but no, they were savoring Ding Dongs and Cheerwine. They then proceeded to crank up The Backstreet Boys greatest hits on their jam box and yell to each other about how hard it was to get a date. Really? What a surprise. I thought about giving them some dating tips, but I was afraid my motives might be questioned.
Undeterred, I poured myself a cold beverage (imagine it being whatever you want) and leaned back, subconsciously humming I Want It That Way under my breath. The last thing I heard before my beverage went flying was the sound of a whizzing frisbee and someone screaming “Look Out!” Of course the drink spilled in a strategic area that made it look like I needed Depends. Really?
I was about to give up when I looked out at the ocean and saw waves meandering to shore with the sun glistening off them in a way that looked like halos. And I heard some little kids laughing as they found seashells that were worth more to them than gold. And I remembered that God, the creator of the sun and the sea, is good. Really good. Even in the midst of chaos.