Little B yawned in his car seat. Today's trip consisted of getting his older sister from the cottage where she'd spent a couple of days with their aunt and uncle and cousin.
"We can spend a bit of time at the beach," Simone told little B. He gave off another yawn.
Once at the cottage, the kids filled water balloons and wisely decided that Simone's wicked stare meant that it would be best for all concerned if they abstained from using her as target practice. When the group headed toward the beach, little B raced after his sister.
"It's time to go home!" He said.
"No, we're going to the beach," she took his hand. "Come on, we'll go in the water together."
Little B dragged his feet, going slower and slower until everyone save his sister and mother had passed him by. When the 12 year old managed to extricate herself from his death throes hold and race to the water, little B screeched. "Come back!" He ordered. "Come back now!"
Twenty minutes of crying and screaming ensued. Simone used the time by changing into her swimsuit then, seeing that the tears had not abated, began shovelling food into little B's mouth. He became mildly entertained by a seagull that pounced on a sandy piece of pineapple that had fallen off his plate and then, as he finished the last morsel of food, he relaxed a little.
"I want the green boat," he sobbed quietly.
Well that was easily solved. Voilà! The green boat.
"And then, I want to go home."
There must be such a thing as too much beach...
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