In the spirit of the beautiful weather and the holiday weekend, we took our kids to the beach. It always seems like a good idea initially but then as soon as I get there I remember, I am not a fan of taking my kids to the beach. It's hot, it's windy, it's messy, they get sand in places....lots of places. At one point, when our 2 year old came to us with yet another faceful of sand, and plopped down with her peanut butter and sand sandwich, we got to talking about other "things" that people do on the beach.
The only sex on the beach I've ever had has been the beverage variety. The other sex on the beach has never even occurred to me. Wind. Sand in places. Friction. Sand in places. Chafing. Blowing sand. Painful rubbing with sand. Potential for badly placed sunburn. Why? Sweet Jesus Lord above why would you do that to yourself? Maybe I'm just not adventurous. Call me boring. Maybe there is some special way to do it that I'm not aware of. But I just really can't think of anything appealing about it. I don't even like having sand stuck to my fingers, having to brush it off of my hands, feet, and legs every 12 seconds drives me crazy. It sticks to everything. Having it all up in there...yikes. I just can't even picture anything romantic or Hollywood-esque about a romp on the beach. Awkward and unattractive. Potentially painful. Actually lots of potential for pain. Sand in places, lots of places. Ever think of the things that crawl on the beach that can bite you? Ever think of WHERE they could bite you when you're not paying attention? How about a face full of sand while you're getting it on. Super sexy. Sand fleas biting you in the crotch while you are blinded by corneal abrasions. Awesome. How does sex on the beach sound now? Perhaps throw in a strategically placed hammock positioned just adjacent to the beach...then maybe we'll have a deal. But sometimes I can barely be convinced that missionary in the comfort of my bed is the way to go. So on the beach? What with all of the wind, sand, blowing, hot, grainy, painful, gritty, abrasiveness, and did I mention sand? Sweet Jesus...why? A balcony positioned far, far above the beach? Perhaps. Call me crazy, call me boring. The good news is, my doctor will never be calling ME back for an exam in which I will have to tell him my hoo-hoo is raw from sand-burn. I'm thinking I'll just stick with what works...the closest I'll ever get to sex on the beach is the beverage version and possibly a frisky night with the husband and a CD of crashing waves playing in the background.