Fire Island

During his visit, Jace really wanted to spend some time beachside, landlocked lad that he is :) So last Saturday we schlepped to Fire Island. There are closer beaches, sure. But we wanted to experience something Extra :) So the subway to the train to the bus to the ferry to the boardwalk we went :)

And, believe it or not, its really worth the schlep! The weather was gorgeous, the beach wasn't too packed and the sand was like flour. Flour, that is, that is littered with tiny jelly fish... Fortunately, P didn't have a reaction - but poor Jace must be allergic, his legs turned red and, apparently, were Very Itchy :)

Three generations playing on the beach...


Everyone jumped through the sand and played in the waves after a slow lunch. But the hit for the day was burying. P was buried a number of times, often partially burying himself when he was chilled from the water. Everyone buried Jace and Seth too. Someone excessively mature added breasts to the sand stuck boys, poor Jace even having to withstand the indignation of a plane mold turned tiny penis. P thought it was hilarious to see breasts on Jace, pointing in shock and giggling "neenees" but wasn't quite sure why a penis would be funny at all (still lacking all needs for privacy and completely enjoying running about the beach in his skivvies... Truly, the penis only seemed anatomically correct:)





Alicia sweetly chatted P up while he was unable to move. He thought this was fabulously interesting... until someone put a hat on his head. He said he didn't want it on. And before one of us could even move to remove it there was a huge realization from the three year old. In a normal situation, he would have knocked the hat off the instant it irritated him. But now, hands trapped beneath well packed sand, he needed help. And you could see this materialize in his little brain as he slowly muttered, "I want it off. I, can't. take. it. off..." Control of his body is such a given these days he was seriously shocked to find it lacking.




Grandpapa gathered shell after shell for P and tossed the little man about in the waves. Then we realized the shells made brilliant frisbees and started tossing them back in.... Nevertheless, P managed it home with a bag full of shells and washed up jellies.



The trip home was equally long, but equally enjoyable. The first leg, on the ferry, found us docked beside a boat floating a pirate flag. P's Top interest of the month being all things Peter Pan, this proved excessively exciting for him. Grandpapa asked P to tell him a story about the pirates and P started in a growl "Once upon a time (gravelly, gruff voice) in the deep, dark ocean..."

P was so jazzed from such a nice day that he was, literally, bouncing off of the train seats. We eventually transitioned to some books and then, when he could do no more, to sleep. The next day he was anxious to see his shells and jellies. The jellies Papa had assured him should not come back to Brooklyn. Needless to say the smell of the closed bag was revolting :) Here's to future trips to the beach, none of which we return from with dead animals...