About two weeks ago B-man said “I’m going to Newport News for work, wanna come?” I was kind of surprised. This is really the first “local” trip he’s taken for work (about 2.5 hours away), so this opportunity has never arisen. I probably wouldn’t have invited myself, so it made me happy that he wanted me to go with him. It was just a two day trip. We left home last Monday night, and returned Wednesday night. But it was a nice trip none-the-less. We ate lunch with B-man every day, and got to go swimming twice (once with just me and Ginny, the second with all three of us!). I really appreciate being able to go with him because it is always nice for me to have a little break after spending all day with the G-meister, plus my bro&sis-in-laws took care of the dogs while we were gone… which is always a nice vacation as well.
Tuesday night I had a hankering to feel some sand between my toes, so… we went off on an adventure to find a beach. We thought we were headed towards a state park… but some how ended up in a beautiful beach house neighborhood with huge three story homes, right on a beautiful private beach. It was about 20 minutes before dusk, and the beach was empty. So I stripped off mine and Ginny’s socks and shoes… and made for the beach! It was Baby G’s first time experiencing sand, and she loved it. She sat in the powdery sand, digging a nice little hole, for 15 minutes while I just squished my toes into it. After the second handful of sand to the mouth I figured it was time to be done. But just those 15 minutes made the entire trip feel worthwhile. We even picked up a shell to add to our small collection.
In high school B-man and I went to France on band tour together. It was probably the first time that I actually hung out with him. If I had to list a moment when I first “fell” for him, this was it. We were in the Normandy region of France, out walking on a cold beach. Walking closely, just chatting. I was probably talking, because B-man has always been the listener, the supporter. He’s good that way. I saw a clam shell, and picked it up. Both pieces of the shell were still together… in fact, they were stuck together?! Was I holding a live clam? I didn’t want to get my fingers snapped so I handed it to B-man and asked him to check it out. He pried it open and yelled “Ouch!”. I freaked out a bit, apologizing all over myself… at which point he let me know he was only joking… and showed me the two empty halves of the shell.
We still have that shell. Every time I see it I am reminded of the wonderful man I married – thoughtful, a great listener, and a sense of humor that I can barely stand. And now, I’ve added another shell. One for our sweet baby girl.
Makes me happy. That’s what counts.