As is typical of our trips to the beach, our preparations are mainly mental. We’re like seniors gearing up for the final football game of our high school careers. Jay talks about the fish that he’ll reel in and if there will be any more curious barracudas. I ramble on and on about romantic walks on the beach and yummy fresh caught fish for dinner. Will the water be blue and clear or hazy and green this year? How will Kai like the sand and the waves? Will the boys like to hunt for fiddler crabs in the sand?
The reminiscing of previous years and the anticipation of new memories made are part and parcel of the pilgrimage our family makes to the Gulf of Mexico. Gearing ourselves up in advance of the actual trip is part of the fun.
So, when Jay came home from work just a few short weeks before our vacation and told me that he couldn’t go because of work (something about a very import bid for a very important government job)….I lost it.
After the tears of sadness ceased their flow, the tides of anger came in and overwhelmed me with a fury.
I lashed out at anyone that I felt was responsible for ruining our trip. I started blaming Jay’s boss for decreeing that no employee was allowed to go anywhere in June. And I’m not going to lie. I used some “choice” words.
Bad words.
Really bad words to describe how I felt about the evil boss and his bleepety declarations and where he could stick this potential government job and where he could carry this blankety company to in a neat little hand basket , FOR ALL I CARE!!!
So prolific were my naughty words that I think I surprised even myself. I would’ve made a drunken sailor blush.
Once my tirade about some poor faceless man (who was just trying to do his job) was done I moved on to cursing the “real” reason my family wouldn’t be together on our beloved vacation. The root of the evil could certainly be traced to one person. I knew it in my heart of hearts.
President Obama.
If he hadn’t placed such silly restrictions on the allocation of stimulus money than the Department of Defense would not have changed the date of the bid for which Jay was a part of and blah…blah…blah….
In my defense, I must’ve gone mad. Perhaps I snapped. For I truly believed and had strong feelings of hatred towards the men that I believed took Jay away from the vacation that he so desperately needed and deserved.
After a few days of cussing the President out, I finally had my emotions under control enough to talk to my Mom about Jay missing our trip. I had actually gone a few days without talking to her because I didn’t want to sob uncontrollably in her ear or unleash another round of insults using objectionable and unladylike language. After all, my Mom raised me to be a lady and I didn’t want her to feel like she had failed!!!
As is typical of my Mom, she mobilized the troops, formulated a plan and put the pedal to the medal in record time. Uncle Dane came to my rescue and gave up a leisurely flight to the beach to endure 2 full days in the car with 2 restless boys and one howling, screeching, opinionated 1 year old. (I wonder where he gets it?)
So that is how my vacation started.
As I think back at all the bad words I said and the odious feelings I had towards people whom I’ve never met, I am searching deep inside for even the tiniest feeling of remorse or guilt at having such dark thoughts.
I’m searching….and searching…Is that a shred of regret I feel deep down inside?
NOPE!!! 
More photos soon.
More photos soon.
