Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Gators, Crabs, Jellyfish, Sore butts and Claustrophobia. The hazards of summer.

Sometimes when you try to synopsize a period of time, it comes out in spurts and globs-- like a stubborn jello shooter in a too deep plastic cup. Usually I am given the liberty of compiling my thoughts, and then downloading them at my leisure, so the glops can at least cling together -- congealing into a storyline that contains a beginning, middle and end-- but sometimes, I just prematurely ejaculate the memory... and you end up with something like this.


I so wish I had bought this bra. I can already see next halloween.


I caught crabs on vacation.

It was dark and I should have known better. At first, there was a lot of shouting and chasing and running and some cursing, with nothing but a blue pail and a tiny sand shovel.


We always brought home one extra one for the dog to chase. We only lost one under the stove... the same stove that claimed the gecko we caught another night.We bought a five dollar net and the crabs got bigger. Just as much cursing and whooping.


With in days, my son was a pro, graduating to a long handled net and a very bright lantern.

This is the biggest blue crab my son pulled out of the surf. He ate it.

There's only so much you can say about shellfish, except. Yes, I was right about the females and the egg-filled asses.
We rented a boat one day in Panama City Beach. We followed a map to a shoreline supposedly full of shells. Nope. But there were a shitload of purple and clear and pinkish jellyfish. They didn't sting too bad.

Another day, after I was treated to a claustrophobic moment when forced through a black tunnel on an inflatable tube, feeling like a pretty little turd riding a tampon through the sewer( ie: spent the morning riding water slides, and floating down over chlorinated faux rivers).. we ate bar food, drank very strong drinks with silly names, drew on the walls then fed some alligators.


This one finally woke up, slithered into the water and chowed down on the treats dangling from our gator friendly fishing pole, much to the delight of every boy in the world- and a few drunk womens too. ayuh.
AS for the sore butts portion of the summer hazards, that would have to do with the inability to rent scooters in our local area. AGe, insurance, cost and availability all a factor. Here comes the tricky part. Renting bicycles and getting a decidedly anti- cardio Father and a decidely slowpoke daughter to keep the pace with the highly competitive boy turned out to be only fun for two of us. 12 miles in the heat felt like 30... I am no Lance.
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