I call foul.
I've decided I want to live on vacation. I have no desire to get back into my home routine. I want sunshine and beaches and Elijah home all day. I want late nights and long stretches of afternoon with nothing to do but read while Amelia naps. I want ice cream, and cookouts and bronzed kids smelling like sunscreen. The trip wasn't long enough, I wasn't ready to come home and so, I think I'll boycott the end of vacation. I'm not sure about everything an 'end of vacation' boycott would entail but I'm fairly certain that it would include losing the house, since paying the mortgage is my responsibility. Oh well, I guess we'll just have to live on the beach.
Since we're going to be homeless beach bums we might as well head back to Siesta Key; the town we visited for Elijah's family reunion. We couldn't afford the perfect little condo at the Seaspray Resort where we stayed, but the sand was soft and it only rained about once a day, usually at night, so we wouldn't have to worry about not being able to bathe before bed.
If we lived at the beach...
...we wouldn't need to hang artwork. |
...we wouldn't need furniture |
...we would all snuggle together every night for bed. |
But best of all, if we lived at the beach...
...I'd never have to do laundry again. |