Yeah, my afternoon did not look like this.
Amara has been bugging me ever since we got back from Hawaii back in March to take her to the beach.
Any time she hears the words "hot," "sand," or "swimming" she asks to go to the beach.
Now we do not live on a coast. We live in the Midwest. On a Great Lake. There's not exactly stunning beaches in our area.
But as a dutiful mom, I suggested we hit the sand today -- since the temperature in the sun has been over 100 degrees the past two days.
I guess it's been awhile since I've visited a beach near us.
I had visions of Cape May and the Jersey Shore. I remembered the white sands of Hawaii.
Um, yeah, no such luck.
The sand at the beach we went to was gross. I found at least one cigarette butt near where we laid out.
The water wasn't blue. I don't think I could see my toes in the shallowest parts. It honestly looked as if Amara was swimming in mud. Yeah, that disgusting.
And I took her to one of the "best" beaches on our lake.
To make matters worse, after an hour there, the sun disappeared, the skies turned grey, and this tremendous wind blew through the beach. Sand was blowing everywhere. And much to the dismay of my daughter, the lifeguards ordered everyone out of the water.
Not exactly my idea of a good summer day.
Maybe next time we hit the beach it'll be on the coast...