It’s a sunny bank holiday Sunday!
(Why are you laughing? It’s true!!)
The Tots are both fizzing with boredom,
As we try to work out what to do.
The hubby’s consulting his smart phone
To calculate where might be best,
The BBC weather app argues
That for sunshine we ought to head West.
So into the car we all wrestle,
With buckets and spades and arm bands,
And tell the nice chap in the sat nav,
That we’d like to attend Heysham Sands.
Now we’d chosen this spot with intention,
It’s renowned for it’s many rock pools.
Which we thought The Tots might find amusing.
(Yes. We really are those kind of fools).
The beach could be seen from the car park.
The offspring were giddy to burst
But ooh, there’s a cute little cafe…
We’ll just have a bit of cake first!
And while we are stuffing our faces,
Our little Miss spots a pink net,
Which has to be thus duly purchased,
And she cherishes like a new pet.
Successfully nourished and watered,
We gallop out onto the sand.
The little one squeaks with excitement
In a language we don’t understand.
He giddily stares in amazement
As he studies the sand on his toes,
Pauses for just a few moments,
Then finding his feet… off he goes!
We instantly head for the shore line,
The sand becomes much more like mud.
And within less than 45 seconds,
We stop as we hear a wet thud…
Then a pause….
Then a screech from a wet little boy.
Who now seems to look like he’s half dipped in sludge,
so is soggy and crying.
He’s still not that great at the talking,
But gives me his most distressed “Mmmuuhh!”
And articulates hard with his finger,
That he wants to go back now thanks.
So “Daddy Pig” leaps to the rescue,
(As rock pools aren’t really his thing).
The boys wander back to the sand dunes,
While Miss Tot and I start “Rock-pooling!”
We eagerly reach the first rock pool,
My daughter peers in, net in hand.
But nobody swims up to greet us.
This rock pool is clearly unmanned!
We squelch on from one to another,
And try not to slip on sea weed,
With Little Miss “I’ll just walk through it”
Whilst Mum holds her wrist, taking heed.
I pick up some rocks with excitement,
To see who is living beneath,
But just find a little more sea weed,
And bugger all else underneath.
I desperately hoped for a starfish,
Assumed at the least there’d be crabs?
But whatever lived in those rock pools,
Was evading my tot’s eager grabs.
(Although we DID find one or two crabs,
It’s just that were a bit dead,
And I wasn’t sure how to explain it),
So we poke at some sea snails instead.
We move on to picking up seashells,
And gather up quite a nice hoard,
Then “Daddy Pig” calls us back over,
As The Boy is now getting quite bored.
The tots wander back with their buckets,
So proud of their seashells and stones,
I say “We can make a shell garden!”
(Ignoring their Dad and his groans.)
And so as we pull in our driveway,
The tots both bounce out of the car,
And gallop straight into the garden,
I smile at how happy they are.
We carefully unpack their treasures,
And lay them out onto the ground,
But I suddenly feel rather guilty,
When a handful of sea snails are found!?
It seems that amongst all our sea shells,
We’ve landed the odd stowaway,
And two hundred miles from the coast now,
It seems this will be their last day. 🙁
“Oh goodness” I say to my offspring,
“These poor little snails. I feel bad!”
“It’s OK.” Miss Tot reassures me,
“We don’t have to be very sad.”
“We’ll just keep them here in the garden”
She says with a beautiful grin.
“And next time we go to the seaside,
We’ll take them and put them back in!”
OK kiddo. Good plan!
This post originally featured on the fabulous Meet Other Mums blog page, for whom I am proud to be a regular blogger.
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