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“They’re at 17th street?”
“But he said today we’re at 20th street.”
My wife, children, mother, and I gathered our beach chairs and other paraphernalia and trudged back over the sand and to the car.
Fifteen minutes later.
“Where are they? Do you see them?”
“No.”
I dropped the stuff, set up camp, and plopped into my beach chair.
“Hey isn’t that B (my cousin) waving?”
“Yup.”
Thirty minutes, two parking space searches, three walks across the hot shell infested sand, fourteen sighs, a gallon of sweat sweated off, and we finally found the rest of the family.
As we setup camp, my mother came over to me and made a declaration.