Don't read this blog!

I love life at the beach and think that you would love Ocean City, too. But if you're planning a trip here, read no further. There are some things I don't want you to know. . .



I don't want you to find out that as much fun as sand is to play in, it is a real drag to clean up. It fills every nook and cranny. The minute I finish vacuuming it up, there is more. It seems to breed inside my house. I'd be embarassed if you found out that sometimes our sheets are sandy, too.

I'm not going to tell you that laundry doesn't do itself here. We each seem to go through 3 outfits a day, not including pajamas. Each outfit we take off is dirty--completely dirty. (See paragraph about sand above.) I would hate for you to find out that once washed and dried, the clothes don't fold themselves either.



The kids have a good time here, that is true. But I'm not going to tell you that they get scolded here for putting their feet on the couch (again, see paragraph about sand) and eating snacks right in front of the TV, which seems to leave many crumbs on the floor and furniture. I won't tell you about the bugs that will so easily invade your house for tasty morsels left on the floor. Ants, spiders, and I'm afraid of what else is out there, but you won't here it from me.



Even more, I'm not going to tell you that as much as they love to run and scream outside, the kids get in trouble for doing so inside the house. We have upstairs neighbors and we like them a lot. They seem to like us, too, so I want to keep it that way.



Speaking of kids, mums the word about hermit crabs, too. Some people might tell you that they are a low maintenance pet. They still poop and need to eat, and have their cages cleaned out, but you won't hear that from me. I won't horrify you with the fact that I just read that some hermit crabs can live with the same family for 30 years.



Ugh. Grocery shopping. 'nuff said. I won't tell anyone that I don't even enjoy trips to Target when I'm at the beach. On the island, grocery store aisles are so narrow, you have to do a strategic 5-point turn with your cart, just to face the other way. The closest Target is 25 minutes away, requiring a trip over the bridge and two toll rodes.


Shhhhh! I don't want you to find out about our dinners, either. Sometimes, we sit down for a meal of chicken, rice and a green salad. But, often, dinners are slices of cheese piled upon crackers and carrots and pita chips which dive deep into garlicky hummus and are washed down with a long swig from a juice box, a kid style happy hour.


I'm not going to tell you about bedtime either. Eventually, we all sleep, but late nights are spent on the front porch, until we can no longer feel our bare toes from the night air. As sleepy as we get, we often turn on a movie, or, the kids' favorite, an episode of Wipeout, and stay up well past our bedtime. I hope you don't drive past my house at night to see us all breaking our curfew--or worse, the two boys and me asleep on the couch. Not that we snore or sleep with our mouthes wide open or anything like that. I'll never tell.



So, I hope you didn't read this. There are some things better left between me, the kids and the hermit crabs.