By Lynna Clark
The last time I packed to go to the beach I included clothes and provisions for every possible scenario. If it turned chilly I had a jacket. If it was hot I had sundresses… plural. If the apocalypse broke loose, no problem. We took plenty of water. If they had no grocery stores on Ocean Isle, we certainly would not go hungry. Good gracious at the food we packed! I mean really. One should not go traipsing off to the far reaches of the state all willy-nilly. What if we got a late night hankering for Chex Mix? We made a foot tub of that just in case. After all… we were staying for three whole days.
Why did I do that? I ended up wearing the same thing I wear at home all week: Black capris, white top. David calls it my uniform.
This time we are going with two of our daughters’ families. My goal is to be a fun grandmother. I will play with them until I collapse in my beach chair. It won’t take long. I’m not a spring chicken anymore. It’s hard to admit that. But at least I won’t be worn out from lugging a bunch of stuff I don’t need up the stairs at the beach house. I can’t help but wonder though…
What will I wear if we go out to eat… which we will if I don’t pack food.
What if it turns cold… which it will if I don’t take a jacket.
What if all my hair falls out again because of my new medicine… which it will if I don’t take a hat.
What if my toenail polish gets raggedy in the surf? Who in their right mind would wear flip flops with unkempt nails?
Oh! And we need a fan for optimal sleeping comfort. Plus our bucket o’ drugs because we can’t let our poor ol’ bodies get any more out of whack. Maybe I should pack our blood pressure cuff to make sure David’s doesn’t bottom out in the heat. And my favorite blanket in case the rest of the crew turns the A/C to subzero; Of course I need my own pillow… and cosmetics. Holy cow it takes a lot to keep me this lovely.
Beach chairs… we can’t forget the beach chairs. And the good frying pan; and ginger-ale in case I get fainty-fied. Of course I will need my insulated cup with the lid…
Toilet paper. Those places never have good toilet paper.
Sunscreen! I almost forgot the SPF one hundred forty seven. And an umbrella or maybe a pop-up tent. One cannot be too careful out in the sun these days.
OH! And chocolate milk! We always take chocolate milk on the trip down. It’s our special tradition signifying the beginning of vacation. No need breaking tradition just yet.
While I list the things we need so as not to forget anything vital, David packs a bag. Singular. It holds two pairs of shorts, underwear, swim trunks, a couple t-shirts, flip-flops. Period.
He zipped his bag shut though there was still plenty of room in it. I do not understand the man.
All I’m saying is that if his hair falls out, he is not getting my hat.
