Ah yes...the beach. Hot sand, seaweed long enough to use for a blanket and family...
Well...here we are. The beach in Texas. Finally!!
And what does this have to do with feet and bubbles?
Nothing...but I'm getting to it.
So now that we've given the family hugs, met the future wife of my cousin, I pull the 6 year old off the roof of the hotel, get his shorts back on and knock everyone over when my aunt declared lunch time.
Food...that I don't cook...for free?
I'm in love.
While my aunt was passing out the edibles, she happened to mention not to drink the water because it had this constant look of 36 lemon lemonade, and not to call a plumber if our taps looked like perpetual urine.
And before I had finished inhaling my sandwich, I heard my daughter asking all of the family, including the newbies, if they wanted to see her Hello Kitty bathing suit.
But before anyone could answer, she was lifting her dress up to her eyebrows and saying, "Thank you...thank you...no applause, just money."
Well...that'll pay for a semester at community college.
So after a couple of hours in the ocean, my uncle let us know that our beach house was ready for us to move in.
The first thing the kids did was locate all the beds, flip little sister to see who got the Murphy bed first, test out the stereo, see if they got all the channels on the Direct Tv and flush all the toilets.
The first thing husband did was make sure the fridge was on and the WiFi was working.
The first thing I did? Unpack and start laundry.
We had just put all of our things away and got organized when my husband reminded me that no one had showered yet and we had two hours before rehearsal dinner.
So now it was time for musical showers since we only had 2 bathrooms.
Older 3 kids first and daddy next in one bathroom while I bathed the 5 and 6 year old's in the bigger bathroom.
I was just getting ready to take them out when Mr. Madhouse came in, looked at the kids in the bathtub and said, "Who in the green puck has diarrhea! It looks like an elephant did it's business in here!"
*Only he didn't say puck. Use your imagination*
Anyway, now that we're all clean and shiny, we slipped on our flip flops and made the 23 second walk to the hotel where the family and the BBQ food were while we waited for the judge and the rehearsal.
And we waited...and waited...and waited some more. Turns out the judge got lost, so my cousin announced it was just plain ole' dinner time.
Yet another meal I didn't have to cook. This was turning out to be a great vacation...
So while I was chitty chatting with some of the total strangers that were now my family, the entire hotel heard the blood curdling scream that went something like this:
"My bubbles won't blow, my bubbles won't blow! Owie, my foot...mommy...help...save me! My bubbles!"
So I leap down the stairs in a single bound, ran faster than a speeding bullet and grabbed my daughter to see why she's holding an empty bubble container in her hand while she keeps her right foot suspended in mid air.
Somehow my child managed to find the only sewing needle on the entire, enormous, 3 level deck of the hotel.
How did she find it?
As she was blowing her bubbles, the needle somehow managed to poke into the top of her shoe, go through her sock and right into her foot.
Which bleed. And bleed, and bleed some more...until it stopped, swelled and required lots of ice.
So we took lil' Missy and the boys back to the beach house, got everyone settled in for the night and me and the Mr. sat on the deck and listened to the party go on without us.
The next morning, somewhere around 7am Texas time, (that would be 5am MY time)I was woken up by a strange sound.
Wanna take a guess?