Beach Blanket Bingo

Seven days seems like a long time when you're ripe with anticipation for a beach vacation. But in reality, the progression from "Hey, it's only Tuesday! We have so much more time here!" to "Crap, we have to pack tonight and we never went to the water park or had that funnel cake or bought that cute t-shirt or went running every day..." is lightening fast.

Rehoboth Beach, Delaware is a great escape, nonetheless. I love the mix of aging gay couples and family-friendly attractions. I love the beach itself, though the jellyfish were rampant. And I love the entire atmosphere of relaxation. I did not check e-mail once the entire time. An absolute record-breaker.

My oldest daughter hated the sand in her bathing suit and changed into clean undies and a cover-up within 10 minutes every day, which is exactly how I was growing up. Truth be told, I still can't stand the "unknown" underfoot and I really don't go deeper into the water than I have to in order to cool off. I much prefer to sunbathe, read a book and absentmindedly trickle my toe in the cool sand...ahh, it seems so, so long ago.

Here's a brief recap:
* FUN: little girls who travel better than most adults I know. Their mommy must have raised them well. NOT FUN: the beach-block condo that cost a fortune and seemed like a palace more than a decade ago when last rented...but apparently hasn't seen a good mop or fresh coat of paint since.

* FUN: little girls on rides at Jolly Roger designed specifically for their age so their mommy doesn't panic when they get buckled in. NOT FUN: teacups. I should have learned my lesson when I ended up in Disneyland's infirmary in 1986. They still make me want to hurl.

* FUN: family that takes me out and serves me lots of white wine so we can properly enjoy karaoke with gender-ambiguous patrons belting out "I Will Survive". NOT FUN: lots of white wine that does indeed make me hurl. I so can't drink.

* FUN: renting surrey bikes built for five and shooshing all over the boardwalk. NOT FUN: hills.

* FUN: forgetting about work, literally, for hours on end. NOT FUN: eight gazillion messages taunting me the moment I come home.

All in all, a great time.