Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Henry touches the Pacific

After our visit to the Mission we had a hankering for some BBQ.  Henry to the rescue.

And then after BBQ, another hankering. Ice cream. Good thing Baskin Robbins was across the street.

And after that, my insistance that we touch the ocean, please.  We parked near Lover's Point in Pacific Grove.

What I didn't know was that my son has not ever done that.  He's been to the coast, but not up close since he was a wee tiny babe.  In San Francisco we never hit the beach.  He's never set foot in the waves and run up the shore.  He's never seen kelp.  Or sea shells.  Or cold, foamy salt waves rushing at him.  (He said no Mom, I've been to the Tahoe beach and I had to set him straight about Tahoe not being ocean.)  He's never gotten half his pants wet in winter from wading a little too deep.

I knew they'd love it.  Knew it, knew it.  Henry said this is the best part, Mom, we should do this more next time.  Addie found sea anemones in the tidepools and E peeked at hermit crabs.  Henry climbed the rocks and wrote his name in the sand.  It was ten kinds of awesome.

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