Time to take matters into our own hands. I've slathered on my No-Ad Coconut Lime lotion and am wearing my brightest green butterfly scarf. Beckon some sunshine into your morning. Grab your kiddos, if you have them, or your love muffin, or shag it out by yourself to the anthem of my childhood.
Back when I was a tot, several of my summer days were spent at my granddaddy's beach house on Tybee Island. Looming three stories high and mere steps away from the beach, it was a tropical palace. Screened in porches covered in astroturf wrapped around the top two stories, at the end of one of which hung a king sized knotted hammock. We kids spent more time swinging and fighting on that hammock than we did constructing dribble castles at the beach (and we built a lot of dribble castles!). But the best part of the house was the ground floor with its speckled concrete floor and perfume of salt and baked sunscreen. It was a trove of party fun. Poker tables circled by red leather covered barrel seats. A pool table and ping pong table. A kitchenette and separate room packed with at least six sets of bunk beds. Can you imagine the parties my dad, aunts, and uncles had there back in the day?
For my siblings and me, though, the prize was the juke box against the far wall; its glowing pink and blue neon lights drawing us close like moths. There were several songs to choose from the faded, yellowing menu, but we only puched the sticky plastic buttons for three: Ghostbusters; New York, New York; and our favorite, Brown Eyed Girl. Jumping and twirling to Van in that yellow beach house on 10th Street is the first memory I can recall of dancing. The pluck of the guitar chords invaded ours souls and forced us to move. Those days were all giggles and sunshine...except for the time I planted my heel directly onto a rusty roofing nail and had to get a tetanus shot, but that's a different story.
Have a fabulous Friday, y'all.
Ha, ha! And then there was the time that the kids and I visited, and I was sleeping in the downstairs bedroom (that your mom and dad usually had). About 1 or 2 a.m. this little teary-eyed wraith came in and crawled into bed with me, snuggled up and after I said a few comforting words, went back to sleep.
ReplyDeleteThe next morning, I walked out onto that big, glorious porch where you were sitting with your daddy. Big John asked, "How was your night," and I said, "Great! I had a visitor; Christan came and crawled into bed with me." You drew yourself up, and replied, indignantly, "I did NOT. I got in bed with Mommy!"
Okay!