Mint Choco Chip with a lot of sprinkles, please.

For weeeeeks we talk about fun things we are going to do at the beach. It's the topic at breakfast every day until we get there. One day we talk about flying kites and the next day it's the box of sugar cereal we can't wait to take with us. We gab about staying up late, finding an ice cream shop and getting the biggest scoop, digging in the sand, and playing putt putt.
And we are held accountable for every little detail brought up at that table...

The beach: I love you.
I loved making the memories- but I know Michael and I are the only ones who will remember...

...your little legs running silly in the sand.
...you turned over a new leaf and started swimming under water...telling new friends, "I've been swimming for years."
...you filled your shoes with sand and shells.
...you were so happy to feel like you could swim.

...how you would laugh and scream when you saw the planes fly by with banners.
Running your tummy hungry...(you know peanuts freak me out and so you break them all in half and chew them up dramatically so I stop staring at you. goof.)

You, my little Christian, loved the salty shells. Daddy would give you one to chew on and it kept you occupied for a bit.
Dads have it tough. heehheee- glad it's not me!
I was a little busy smacking my lips on a salty-sandy baby all weekend.

Picture perfect of everyone looking at camera. thanks.

Our family picture (my foot). Better picture sans parents that are jumping up and down behind camera.
Tired Babu...