There are a few ways of getting sand in your ears. Swimming in Pacific surf when you're used to quiet lake waters is one. I had a few somersault tumbles between the waves and the undertow.
Here's another way.
That's R keeping an eye on the boys.
My way of keeping an eye isn't as physical.
I'm teaching him how to do "Here's the church and here's the steeple. And here are all the people." Turn your hand and wiggle your fingers that should be tucked underneath.
The cliffs get the surf too. Once we figured out the tides, we had a few walks along the beach.
Only a week and we were en route to the airport again.
I knew we were back in Montreal when we got in the cab and a hockey game was blasting--because, hey, everyone wants to hear the hockey, right?
Five days later and I've still got fine white sand in my ears. With wet snow underfoot.
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