Hubby used to go to fishing at Lynnhaven Pier near Virginia Beach with his father when he was a boy. This weekend, we took our boys to the same place. As Hubby’s father passed away some seven years ago now, it was a nice trip down memory lane for Hubby, and a great tradition to begin with the boys.
The boys didn’t catch much. Oldest and Middle Sons each caught one, while Youngest Son was more interested in picking dead fish and crabs out of other people’s buckets. (Believe me, I scoured his hands after he decided to hug some dead fish.) But they all got to swim in the warm surf of the Atlantic, and had a ball.
They collected seashells, made new friends (Isn’t it amazing how quickly children make friends? I wish I’d never lost that skill.), and waded so far out on the sandbars at low tide that Mom had a bit of a freak-out trying to shout them back closer to shore.
They were especially pleased when the waitress at dinner that evening dropped her tray and painted Mom with ranch dressing and small vegetables. I even had carrots in my purse. The boys thought this was the funniest thing they had ever seen. And they loved the free dessert we got for my trouble!