Eve vs. Wilms: Dangerous Marine Life

We went to the beach two and a half months ago. This is what I remember of it.

There were some very dedicated kite surfers. They were busy being all athletic while I was licking orange stuff off my fingers from the cheesy poofs.

I was proud that we managed to remember where we stored our beach rafts from last year. If you have seen our garage, you'd be patting me on the back right now. And my back isn't even sunburned because I am so good about using sunscreen so you could really pat it hard because you have seen my garage.

No sharks in there, I hope. God, do I hate sharks.

Oh crap, is that a baby shark?

Daniel is like a puppy on the beach. A puppy who is enthusiastically after some Snausages. I like Daniel better than puppies though, because he is potty trained and doesn't leave my hand smelling weird when I touch him and doesn't smell like death when he goes swimming and doesn't bring me some slobbery ball and doesn't jump all up on me scratching my legs to hell to check and see if I'm menstruating and basically I'm not a dog person.

Eve is more my speed. We are like puppies that only have two legs and walk upright and talk instead of bark and eat with forks and knives and don't sniff and/or lick our buttholes. We're kind of like people, almost.

I don't think I'd be one of those jerks who tells you that if you lived somewhere nice that you would cease to appreciate how special it is. Shut up with that. I'd be outside every night with my slice of pizza and some cheap gin, no matter if I'd been there ten days or ten years. And if I did that every night for a whole decade, I'd probably start putting some wacky stuff on my pies because while I would never tire of the beach, I might get kind of sick of 3,652 slices of banana pepper and pineapple pizza. Maybe. Maybe not.

You might also pat the other side of my back for locating the sand toys in the garage because that first part of my back is getting kind of sore from all the accolades.

There must always be an indoor pool at the beach in the event of a thunderstorm or sharknado. Also, there must be a grandfather to use as a flotation device.

My mom kept saying she was getting bit by flies at the pool and I was all like, "Flies don't bite, Mom." And then I was all like, "Hot damn, that fly just bit me!" I want to know who told Noah to let the biting flies on the ark because they should have been chucked along with the sharks.

But sharks can't drown. Crap. We were always going to be stuck with them.

Again, I'd eat pizza under this sky right now and I wouldn't try to downplay it and be like, "Oh, you just get used to it." YOU DON'T GET USED TO NIGHT PIZZA ON THE BEACH.

I'd eat pizza during the day while watching the kids not get eaten by sharks.

I would warn the kids not to go swimming near the pier because that is where the sharks party. You know how ants like to hang around family reunions and eat up all those pound cake crumbs that fall to the ground? It's just like that, but with bait instead of crumbs and sharks instead of ants and people in bathing suits instead of matching t-shirts. I get nervous when I see the gaggles of old people setting up beach chairs under the pier because I see how long it took them to set everything up and when the sharks start nipping at the them, they are going to be very slow to get away. Also, they bruise so easily. I almost want to buy them an umbrella so they can come and hang out away from the pier but, like I said, there are gaggles of them and I have to budget for pizza. But, no gaggles were pictured here because it was late-afternoon and it was dinnertime.

Plus, there is rarely a lifeguard on duty after 4 so you're kind of at the mercy of Natalie to make sure you don't get pulled under by a riptide or a shark or an old person being dragged into the ocean by a shark during a riptide.

We watched The Karate Kid and I'm pretty sure it changed the trajectory of Daniel's life.

While Eve enjoyed the movie, too, she and I were just high on snacks.

Here is Nat maybe running away from a shark.

And these pictures are cool just because. And just because there are no sharks.

Mom, hold this!
I was making a really inappropriate face under all this mess. Or I was being really endearing. I can't remember. This was two and a half months ago.

Mom, watch this!
I'm totally watching. If you could see my face, you could see you can trust me.

Matt, let's move here and eat pizza on the beach every night!

Here's Nat either having a pre-tween moment or capturing sea snails. She might have been trying to get word to the families of Gary, Larry, and Darryl.

When the Dangerous Marine Life flag is out, we can find something else to do. Like indoor putt-putt. I don't know if you know this, but I don't mess around with sharks. Or jellyfish. But definitely not sharks or anything else under the dangerous marine life category which is probably just a list of all kinds of different sharks.

We so photogenic. 2013 Christmas card?

This is where I get it from.

Everything in this place was neon. Just like in the volcanic regions of Hawaii, I'm told.

The pool is still inside, just for events like dangerous marine life.

I think Dan got a strike.

The aquarium is also a fun place to visit when it's cold and rainy and dangerously mariney and everyone else from Myrtle Beach is there.

The conveyor belt that takes you along the shark tunnel will cease to operate if there are too many people. There were too many people. You had to walk. WALK. Ugh. I guess it was as much training as I would be getting for my Ultimate Hike while on vacation. Silver linings.

Daniel enjoyed the fact that the belt wasn't forcing him to move anywhere. He likes to bring a journal with him to sketch things of interest. And what isn't a thing of interest? I guess, technically, the uninteresting.

Is it Beetlejuice or Robin Thicke? Either way, it's still creepy.

There was a mermaid show on the other side of these stingrays.

Eve: Mermaids!!!
Nat: You believe in mermaids?
Eve: You don't?
Nat: They aren't real.
Eve: I'm looking at mermaids right now.
Nat: You think mermaids are real?
Eve: OF COURSE THEY ARE REAL! I SEE MERMAIDS RIGHT THERE!

Of course. Duh, Natalie.

Check me out at Ripley's Odditorium. This is what I look like before I move to the beach and eat pizza every night for ten years.

And this just makes me want to pull out my VHS copy of Big and show it to the kids while we eat baby corn.

Since they refused to take the Dangerous Marine Life flag down, we just hoped that no sharks would hot dog roll out of the ocean toward us on the beach.