Salty Nuts!

Adventure #12  Don't Cry Over Spilled Beers Why is my life exactly opposite of which I intended? I know a lot of people think that but how many people actually will admit that their life is not the carbon copy of their dreams? I one day dreamed of having the perfect beach day. Picture this: the typical tall dark and handsome, forearms for days, crisp khaki pants. ripping muscles through his half-buttoned pale blue shirt, white teeth smiling back at me as he lifts up both of my just as handsome twin boys over his shoulders. Now Picture This: Sweat, saliva, salty beers, buried beach blanket, stolen sandwich, freezing, sand everywhere,  just been back humped cold afternoon with no guy. Hmmm No Exaggeration. Going to the beach with my boyfriend Brutus is exactly opposite of relaxing. If I am not picking up humongous piles of his crap I am making sure he doesn't attack an elderly person's tennis balls on their walker. Yes, I live in Florida and those neon colored tennis balls are ready and almost calling to my English Bulldog, "EAT ME!" Well, 20 mins. earlier I had the hope of a nice day, packing a sandwich for one...ah booooo.. and organizing my cooler. Yes, Its organized. I check the weather and it's the not too hot temp for my barely breathing bully, and were off! The dog beach is the place where many have told me to go and meet other singles. Ah, yeah the people that say these things, are not singles. There I am wind howling past me, hair in knots after 5 minutes, carrying a cooler, a bag full of beach doggy toys, my I Pod, and his beach chair. I say "his" beach chair because once we set up shack, I end up sitting on the sand as he takes over the chair.  So in this is how the next ten minutes pretty goes: One bite of my sandwich and the little shit steals it from my death grip, O.K. gone, beer spills in the sand from a ginormous paw cashing down on it, beach chair gets knock over and travels 17 feet down the beach because of the wind and because someone decided to chase seagulls, the pup starts licking a dead fishes eyeball, I drink a salt infested beer because I really need it now, Frisbee gets buried in sand, two 9 dollar a piece balls get lost in the ocean because "I am sorta scared of the water" won't swim out and get them, 45 dollar doggy life jacket goes unused, sniffing balls of another bulldog, new hot pink beach towel that I once thought would be under me as my hotter then Brad Pitt Husband rubs oil on me; now gets used for a slobber-soaker-upper, 20 mins. later we leaving with half the beach in my jeep, a seepy saliva face and half my dreams down the bay.