So we girls went away for the weekend as previously referenced in the installment about the Spray Tan (which you can see for yourself in the picture was not bad at all, right? I'm the one with the braids...)
The weekend was heaven. Pure heaven.
For one full day and a half, it was one giant window and it was lovely. And by window, I mean that normally my day consists of tiny little windows in which to do everything. There is a morning window when the little one takes his nap and I clean up the madness of the morning and get ready for the day. Followed by the next window in which both kids are awake and if we are going to do anything, it is going to be within that window, which ends with another window, the afternoon naptime window, where mommy gets to do things she needs/slash/wants to do (usually some sort of face-off called clean vs. blog or clean vs. facebook) while the kids nap, then the next window when they both get back up and we play and dinner must be made, baths are taken and bedtimes happen, and finally, the big long sleep window. Which sometimes is not so long.
But being at the beach meant one big giant window for mommy to do anything she wants. For instance, waking up at, oh, nine, (even though it was surprisingly hard to sleep without the gentle SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH of the monitor next to my head). Or maybe having a glass (or three) of wine, or writing another chapter of yet another book that I have started that may never see an ending (if there was an award for number of books began and never finished, I may be in the running for it). Laying around doing nothing but listening to an I-Pod on the beach...
It was wonderful. I didn't even know what time it was half of the time.
I even exercised! I ran, I swam in the ocean (discovering that I had better make some serious progress over the next 8 weeks before the triathlon or I will be in some serious trouble), and did a crazy Cross-Fit workout (which
I can't put my arms up I am feeling today, thanks to my sister-in-law slash drill sergeant! Thanks sis!)
It rained everywhere in Florida except for the little bubble that must have been around our beach because there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Except for when we went for a late-night walk and, literally, the moment I said, "I can't believe there hasn't been any rain!" a torrential downpour began and we had to sprint at least a half a mile with our beer (which amazingly did not spill!), back to the condo at which time we were drenched and then promptly put on pj's and ate ice cream.
When we went out to the beach, we had a variety of ice cold beers and the yummy White Cheddar Cheez-It's of the "reduced fat" variety with us for a snack and those are my favorite.
We decided to take a walk and we went all the way down to the end of the beach and back. It took a while. We strolled.
There was no rush.
When we returned, we realized we had been breached.
Someone had stolen our Cheez-Its! The box was there, laying on its side, but the bag was nowhere to be found!
Drats! I love those!
I was probably the most pissed. Because I love them so much. So in my head whirled a million things, at the forefront of them a picture in my head of some muscle-guys who've had a few too many, stumbling by our chairs, spotting our Cheez-Its and daring one of the others to grab them and run (because muscle-guys crave Cheez-Its on the beach). I had pictured them being hungry, their stomachs growling, their inhibitions a little tinkered with, spotting our prized Cheez-Its and making off with them, laughing and cackling the whole way.
"Huh huh! We stole those girls' Cheez-Its! That's hilarious! I can't believe we did that!" was what they would have been saying as they scrambled off. And then they'd have picked some chairs to sit at outside a hotel that wasn't theirs and wolfed them down and went up to the beach bar for more drinks. And then commenced to tell the story of the Cheez-Its to all their friends, even into adulthood where they would go, "Remember the Cheez-Its? That was hilarious!"
That's what I was picturing.
So I'm scanning the beach for the bandits. The muscle-guys, laughing and cackling, probably wearing some really tacky hawaiian shorts.
And I turn around and I find them.
Our little lonely bag of mostly eaten Cheez-Its lying sadly on the ground a few feet away.
Surrounded by seagulls.
That's what happened.
You mean to tell me that the seagulls actually pulled out the box of Cheez-Its in one giant "Heave Ho!" moment, then carefully extracted the inner bag, dragging it out into the open for the swarm and then commencing the final Cheez-It KILL???
They're that smart?
I still can't even believe it myself. But as I picked up the sad, empty red box, mourning the loss of our yummy White Cheddar Cheez-Its and filled with anger about its demise by a bunch of selfish birds, who didn't even have the decency to ask by the way, and began the trek back upstairs to get another snack (it was a long walk, we were hungry!), the birds swarmed around my head as if I were making off with their snack! And I had to duck and cover and run for it, swatting with my empty red box the whole way and yelling, "Go away! There's nothing in here! Leave me alone! You stole it already!!" because apparently they knew exactly what was supposed to be in there!
What the heck! Talk about selfish...
I don't remember seagulls being this smart or brazen. I only remember them swarming around knowing when food was out in its bare openness like a piece of bread (already OUT of the bag!), I certainly don't remember them capable of carefully orchestrating a burglary or theft of the inner bag of a closed box!