The best part of being here in Florida for two months is the quality time we get to spend with Ashley, Andrew, and our two oldest grandsons. When I’m with the boys, I try to model good behavior. However I’m seeing that when I’m apart from them, their behavior has rubbed off on me somewhat..and it’s not their sweetness I’m talking about.
We see the boys every day Monday – Friday and babysit occasionally on a weekend night, but we try to give them “space” for family time on Saturdays and Sundays. So, faced with a free and sunny Sunday afternoon on our own, what else to do but go hunting for shark teeth?
I started out well with my usual optimism. That quickly faded as Tim found one right off. Then another. And another. I sulked off to a separate part of the beach as once again, I was not sharing his enthusiasm. He kept searching and finding teeth. I kept searching and finally found a small nub of a broken tooth. A tourist couple stopped to chat; they had been looking for four days and hadn’t found a single tooth. I showed them my nub. They weren’t impressed. Then two small children, their father, and grandfather strolled by. The children excitedly showed me their Baggies full. I feigned interest. Then, “Dad, you just walked past one. Look how pretty it is!” What obnoxious kids.
About that time, Tim caught up to me. He had eleven teeth. I had one nub. Channeling a five year old, I sulked and kicked at the sand. As I did, something dark and pointed caught my eye. It was a tooth. A big one! Almost as big as the previous day’s find. Again like a five year old, my face lit up and my enthusiasm returned.
We stayed on for a while longer and I found one more nice one. Tim found a total of sixteen. But who’s counting? The rules changed and “She With The Biggest Tooth” is the winner…remember?
A big one, a pokey one and a bwoken one.