The Most Fun

And then there are days like today. Jason lets me sleep in (let's be honest: Jason ALWAYS lets me sleep in, and by sleeping in, I mean 7:30, but still, I am grateful) and he's made coffee and fed the girls. We sit on the couch and watch the girls dance to the music from Somewhere in Time while we drink our coffee and decide not to go to church for no reason other than the sunshine and our lack of cleanliness. I go to the grocery store in my bathing suit and a cover-up to buy beach treats: Capri Suns, sugared almonds, kettle chips with sea salt, blueberries, Cheetos. We make our favorite sandwiches (deli turkey, cream cheese, sour cherry preserves, celery, lettuce, dill havarti on wheat) and pack a cooler. We load up the beach toys, the towels, the magical green chairs from Costco that we can carry like backpacks. We remember the camera, the hats, the sunscreen. We drive.

We go to my uncle's beach and nobody else is there. The water is rumored to be 78 degrees. Lake Michigan! 78 degrees! Annie straps on her goggles and we don't see her face for half an hour, just her butt sticking up towards the sunshine while she kicks kicks kicks out into the waves. Jemma finds a teeny tiny ladybug which she carries around on her forearm and names Ladybug Twilight. We dig deep holes and bury each other. We eat our lunch on the striped sheet that used to be on my parents' bed circa 1982. I swim out with Annie and teach her how to float up and over the waves. She does a billion somersaults underwater. I hold Jemma's hands closer to shore and whip her up into the air over the crest of every wave.

My parents come and they swim with the girls and we squirt each other and stand out in the water, just talking. We eat animal crackers and chips and almonds. Heidi and Jonathan come find us from down the beach and the kids cover each other with sand, stand at the water's edge and let themselves be knocked over by every wave, chase each other through the beach grass.

We dry off and drive to Grand Haven. We eat outside at Snug Harbor. We still have sand on our ankles. The girls drink Shirley Temples and watch the boats go by and tell us long, pointless stories. They share bites of food with each other. They giggle. We walk to get ice cream and ring the Coast Guard bell and pet the dogs walking by. We hold hands.

I say, You know what's the most fun? What, they say. I say, Having two little girls who are five and three in the summertime. I say, Today. Today is the most fun.