I'm sure if you've been to the beach, you've come home with sand, too....I've come to realize, I hate sand. At this time in my life, sand is an enemy to be avoided.
Now, sure, I was delighted to see my kids digging in the sand, covering each other up, and I'm sure they were also enjoying covering themselves up in sand and then going in the lake (Lake Michigan, by the way), to rinse off. I know they enjoyed it...Matt even told his cousin that he liked playing in the sand more than playing with his Nintendo DS...whoa.
But dragging my heaviness loaded down with bags and towels and chairs and food through the hot sand, in my flip flops was not as much fun as it sounds. Eating sand in my sandwich (oh the irony) and drinking sand, hmmm. And then there's the sand I brought home in my bag and my clothers....didn't like it then either.
I DID like the sand in the lake, I liked how it shifted under my feet. I liked how it was solid, and if I moved, it moved too. I liked how through the clear water of the lake, I could see the ripples the waves made in the sand.
Next time (ha), I'll just have to be more prepared, and do this sand thing a little smarter. It might take a while to figure that out.