When the weatherman told me that last weekend would be sunny with temperatures in the low 80s, I was beyond excited. I called my sister, Meredith, and suggested we head to the beach because that was the only rational thing to do. I’m beginning to look almost anemic; at least, for my normal skin tone.
In the back of my mind, the logical aspect of my brain was piecing together all the memories of every time I’d visited the beach in the early spring: the frigid water, the cool breeze, the desire to leave soon after arriving. As if he’d read my thoughts, my husband asked, “Why do you want to go to the beach this weekend? Yeah, it’s going to be sunny, but you know the water will be too cold to swim in and the wind will be blowing.”
I denied that this would be the case at all because the weatherman said nothing about a breeze and I didn’t care about the water and it was too late because the kids knew.
He let me take his vehicle, which has more kick than mine. I felt powerful being able to pass people easily until we hit the traffic of Bradenton. It was like driving through a thick coat of honey and anytime it seemed like the cars would get a nice bit of speed, everyone slammed on their brakes.
By the time we made it to the beach, we could feel the cold wind whipping around us. I figured we’d be fine if we could just lie down. Meredith and I did that, but the kids decided to brave the water.
I would say my daughter doesn’t have the ability to feel cold, but I know for a fact she acts like she’s in the Arctic Circle every morning because the air conditioner is running. Somehow, this same kid ran into that freezing water like it was nothing. I stuck my big toe in it and chickened out.
My son found some female friends to entertain. They needed help playing catch and talking about their home state, Michigan. He was covered in goose bumps from the frigid water, but he couldn’t bring himself to let down those ninth-grade girls.
My daughter collected shells and ran all over the place before she started kicking up sand onto Meredith and me. That’s when we decided we were finished with the sunny coldness of the day.
Our phones confirmed that the forecast was a lie and the day’s temperatures only made it into the 70s, but the wind made it feel like the 60s. Our bodies already knew the truth.
Heading home, we drove through Longboat Key so my daughter could comment on all the luxury homes. Meredith and I picked out apartments that we could rent on the waterway and little islands we’d come sunbathe on if we had a boat. It was nice to daydream.
What wasn’t nice was my husband’s truck telling on me. I didn’t know his GPS had a trip tracker that informed him what my maximum speed was. He thought it was funny to have that information, but I said his truck would make a poor mob member.
As for the beach, I think I’ll wait a couple of months before I return. Maybe the water does need to warm up just a bit more for my taste.