P's shark tooth fossil didn't weather its moon sand burial very well. Ever the problem solver, P figured he'd find his own. So we googled shark tooth hunting. P was sold and ready to venture to Coney Island to collect his booty Right Then...
The weather site said fifty degrees, but it was freezing by the water. Less bundled than necessary, we shivered our way through our picnic and then started hunting. In our hurried excitement to leave the house, we hadn't researched whether or not shark's teeth ever wash up in our area :) just that they do wash up... somewhere. Nevertheless, the little man was "sure, mama, I'm Just Sure, we'll find one." So we schlepped back and forth in the sand while the wind beat us until P, true to being four, forgot the temperature and jumped into the water, twice. Muttering pneumonia under my growing grumpy breath, we headed back to our train. I felt bad shutting down the show sans discussion, but it turned out his chilliness actually outweighed his stubborn search and there were no hard feelings. So I made a mental note to not rush next time and we happily defrosted our underdressed bodies on the toasty train.
While we were short a tooth triumph that day, our trek gave P a glance into the movie business - better than any stop motion clay project I could dream up for sure! Nicolas Cage was filming a scene at our sub stop, so P saw the trucks and cords and lights and cameras and actors that go into one of his new interests. Ahhh homeschooling :)
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