We didn't leave for the beach until Saturday morning. We had a pleasant, restful Friday evening. The drive down was enjoyable. Within an hour of arrival to our destination, T and I fought. Had words. Were unpleasant. Why? I have no clue. I didn't want to hurt his feelings? I didn't want to go to the beach. I didn't feel like going through the whole sticky, greasy, sun screen lube station for a mere hour or two down on the sand. Mind you, I'm white as a ghost and burn after 15 minutes of exposure. Rather than letting him down and telling the truth, I was upset. Needless to say, I'm at the house with a napping baby and T is enjoying the beach. His most favorite place in the world.
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