We celebrated my parents’ 60th birthdays (April and June of this year) with a big beach party last weekend. Beautiful weather, fried fish and shrimp and fries, a margarita machine, coolers full of cold drinks, children and grandchildren and nieces and nephews and friends and the beach – what more could anyone ask for to celebrate 60 years on the planet?
Rush summed up the essence of a good party pretty well in a conversation with the a woman at the grocery store. Seeing multiple boxes of cupcake mix and icing, she asked Rush if we were having a party. His response was, “The Porta Potty is coming today.”
My parents are truly great people. I can only comment on about half of their 60 years and even then I’m limited by the sides of themselves that I’ve seen as their child. But based on the people I know as my parents (and I avoid any stories before their 1977 marriage, because from what I can decipher they’re both Cookie Googlemans – both of them) I can label them as two of the best people in the world.
My niece Carolena won Best Dressed for her Ester Williams inspired bathing suit complete with flowered swimming cap. She went home with a bag of matching bonnets and dresses from my aunt’s recent shopping trip and because of the unvarying nature of boys’ clothing, Rush and Tate came home with a bag of hand-me-downs. Levis and swim trunks and plaid shorts and hoodies are eternal for males, all ages.
Tate does like to spice things up occasionally.
The beach is now in its full summer glory.
Trent, Hunter, Hunter’s girlfriend and I spent some quality time with pitchforks and metal rakes on Saturday morning trying to clear a path through the 2 foot deep seaweed to the water. In the past, I could never remember from year to year that Spring Break is always cold. I’ve finally accepted that, but replaced the confusion with the reality of seaweed. Brain, please note: the beautiful beaches of February are not guaranteed in hot weather.
But the overabundance of seaweed couldn’t bring us down last weekend. Happy Birthday Mom and Dad. Many Happy Returns.
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