I can still think the sweltering heat mixed with the salt of the ocean, and our sweat makes me think sticky and heavy.
“How is this supposed to be fun?” I thought to myself.
Seven-year-old me, with our mini shades, juice box, and hatred for the beach is the reason I was the different kid and outcast in our cali-centric family. My mother with her gorgeous Indian Summer tan, our father with his obnoxious surfer locks, and our siblings who enjoyed to splash in the salty waves were the reason that most people in our family looked at me with strange wonderment.With our pale skin and unhappy appearance, I felt savor an alien in these “fun-in-the-sun” family outings. My mom tried to make it fun for me. She purchased every sand castle kit, floaties in obscure creature shapes, and adorable little kid bathing suits on the market. While I appreciated the effort it still didn’t change the fact that I dreaded the heat and sunlight of the CA beaches. All I wanted to do was rest at lake house in the quality , and our family had a state of the art high velocity A/C plan. The air would suddenly whip through the lake house and lower the temperature in a matter of hours. That was our proposal of a nice time. A lot of cooling, a nice drink and to relax inside with a book. As an adult, it is no wonder that I sprung for a nice plan.