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Beach baby


We took a little grand-nephew (I think he’s a grand-nephew… in-law…or something. Never could keep familial relationship terms straight) to the beach yesterday. He was the only baby on the beach. He was probably the only one within 30 kilometers, since the population here is generally doddering-on-the-verge-of-death.

The baby was a hit among the dodderers. Everyone was watching him. I held his arms while he waded in the shallows. I kept the waves from inundating him, and I made sure that he didn’t get any water in his eyes, because he already had sand in his eyes from a previous face-plant a few moments earlier.

He was as happy as a clam. He smiled and giggled, fascinated with the way the water felt on his feet and legs, intrigued by the softness of the sand in the water versus the hardness of the sand in the sun.

He was greatly entertained by the whole experience, as were the surrounding dodderers. We took him home, whereupon he promptly passed out. Too much excitement for one day.

It was a nice afternoon with the baby on the beach.

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