We discovered the transcendent joy of meat on bread.
We stoically accepted that being at the beach would eventually mean walking into the water no matter how many times we had claimed we would not do so.
We got used to it.
We had a sweet ride.
We flew a kite with surprising competence.
We played in the mud.
A lot.
We had strong opinions about sand castle design.
Like, strong.
We played it cool.
We took some chances.
We posed.
We made friends of varying degrees of creepiness.
We did not require much in the way of parades.
We ate hot dogs because we were Americans.
We were rightly concerned about fireworks safety.
We hung out with lovely internet ladies Caitlin, Natalie, Jess, Donna, and brave fool of a hostess Regan and proselytized them on our meat and bread discovery.
We played with our friends.
We hung out with OTHER lovely internet lady Jen, who fed us lunch composed of pasta and fruit and cheese and crackers like toddler food but for grown-ups and it was perfect.
We also very much appreciated the gummy lobsters on the cheese plate.
We were temporarily adopted while our mother ate cheese.
We worked out the logistics of cake pops. Eventually.
We confronted the sun many times. We cooked little but ate well. We were extraordinarily social, by our standards. We are tired now.
