OCEAN LOVER

a writing exercise

luc loves the ocean the way some people love sleep. go too long without it and all he does is cry, all day long. it is the only place he volunteers to get ready for- he grabs his hat and his shoes and his trucks and waits patiently by the door while mama grabs the other one hundred things necessary for a beach day. he babbles excitedly the entire way there, lots of exclamations about agua! and splash! and plane! {lots of airplanes/helicopters fly over mission beach, which only makes him love it more}. as soon as we finish our trek from the car to the water, he lays down on the warm sand, stretching his limbs out as far as they will go and resting his cheek on the sand, like he's trying to hug an enormous, dear friend. he will lay like that, eyes closed and a peaceful smile on his face, while i set up our towels and umbrella and dump out the sand toys. then he jumps up, eyes big and sparkling, and yells AGUA! he grabs my hand and off we run, into the {freezing} ocean, like fish out of water. he is always completely unfazed by the cold waves, and when i try to slow down to acclimatize my goose pimply legs to the water a little at a time, he lets go of my hand and runs headfirst into the oncoming swell, oblivious to everything but his desire to get as wet as possible, as fast as possible. of course, then i have to plunge in after him, teeth gritted against the chill, and grab whatever body part i can reach before the oncoming wave rolls over him like a baker rolling out cookie dough. despite the fact that he's been steamrolled more than once, and come up sputtering and choking and grasping my arms for dear life, he forgives the ocean almost instantly and runs back in for more. it's an impressive love he's got, to get scraped and splashed over and over, and still he yells joyfully, MORE! AGAIN!

only bribery will get him to leave when it's nap time or mama's energy is depleted. {i've had to pay this kid LOTS of dum-dum suckers this summer}. ever so slowly, he will walk across the sand to the car, propelled only by his mama's impatient hand, waving bye-bye and blowing kisses to his beloved ocean. on the way back, we always stop at the outdoor showers to rinse off because he will invariably fall asleep in the car on the way home and thus not get a bath until much later. on our first beach trip, i attempted to hold him under the adult shower and soap him down- very bad idea. apparently he can take all the cold ocean water in the world right in the face, but a warm stream of water on his head is just too much to handle. so since then, i've been plunking him in the sink and somewhat awkwardly managing to soap and rinse him down, despite the fact that only a third of him actually fits under the faucet. he loves it almost as much as he loves the ocean, and more bribes are required to get him out of the sink and into his clean clothes.

before we are even on the freeway, he's snoring loud enough to wake the dead, and i like to think he's dreaming of more sunny afternoons filled with cold waves and warm sand and baths in the sink.