Braving the Beach

Daryl always loves taking a bath. So we expected him to love going to the beach and playing with water and sand.

But we couldn't be more wrong.

On the final day of this past summer vacation, we decided to put on a diving suit for him and go to the beach together.

We went there late in the afternoon, hoping that it would not be as hot as midday. While it was indeed a little cooler, it was still a hot day.

When we took off Daryl's clothes revealing his fluorescent diving suit (courtesy of his crazy godmothers), he was smiling and laughing as if looking towards to the challenges ahead.

"Give me a surfing board," we thought he said.

But just as we put him onto the sand, he started crying. Loudly.

Worried, we carried him into our arms and took him near the water, hoping that the water would cool him down.

But he cried even louder. Maddeningly louder.

We had no choice but to mount a full-scale retreat. He finally stopped crying when we retreated to somewhere almost 50 metres away from the water.

Later on, we tried to take him close to the water again, but he just wouldn't budge and started crying again. Astoundingly loudly.

Then we put him onto our mat. When he finally stopped crying, we tried to put his feet onto the sand. But as soon as his feet hit the sand, he lifted them, as if the sand was infected with lots of lethal germs (which in fact was).

In the end, I was the only one who could get into the water to enjoy a sunbath. Meanwhile, my wife and my helper had to look after this scared little baby all afternoon long.

Well, perhaps next time would be better, right?