day three

Beach.



Beach.



And more beach.



Also, Djubi on the beach. My how we absolutely love that game.



William graciously offered up his long-sleeved rash guard shirt to his sister who had a slight sunburn on her forearms from earlier in the day. He is such an unbelievably awesome little kid.



We told him that only a man very confident with his masculinity could wear pink.



(Eighty-seven year old Jim agreed, as he donned a pink pastel hat.)

What we've discovered on this trip is that our three-year-old son, Henry, has absolutely no fear of the ocean (or anything for that matter). One minute he'd be methodically destroying the sandcastles that we had just built and the next minute, he'd be running headfirst in to the strong waves that would flip him over and pummel his small body in the surf. All the while, he'd be laughing hysterically. Because didn't you know? Getting beaten up by one of the greatest forces of nature is the funniest thing ... EVER?!?!

Even though we stood hovering over him, we constantly had to snatch him up before he was dragged out to sea. The fact that our young son has absolutely no fear, fills us with great fear. But isn't that the mission of a healthy three-year-old boy?

To shave years off their parent's lives and drive them to the brink of exhaustion?



If so, Henry should be happy to know our hair has turned almost completely white in the past four days and we count the minutes until his bedtime almost from the moment he wakes up. And not because we don't enjoy seeing his incredibly adorable little face ... but because when he's in bed sleeping, we at least know that he's safe.