Florida, part 2

The kids had never been on an airplane before, had never traveled outside of New England. As we began descent toward Sanford International Airport Wylie and Juni were glued to the small window. Kale, sunglasses on, was passed out across Rob’s lap.

“Palm trees, oh my god, palm trees! I see palm trees!” they bickered and exclaimed about the reality of the spikey trees until there was no doubt they were in fact palm trees. The couple in the seats behind us chuckled. “First time to Florida?”

The first step from the plane landed us in humid air, 50 degrees warmer than the air we’d left 3 hours before. Yes, this was what we came for.

We drank in the green with our eyes, gulped hungrily at the moisture laden air, soaked up the Vitamin D. Our feet were desperate for sand, for liquid water.

We drove an hour to the coast, to the beach house we’d rented. Within minutes my brother, his wife, and their daughter joined us, weary from their own flight from New England.

The beach was waiting.

We lay in the sun, we sand castled, we boogie boarded (ever mindful of shark safety- it turns out New Smyrna is the shark bite capital of the world!) We drank wine and margaritas, seltzer and pineapple juice. We ate mangoes and avocados, oranges, and shrimp. We grilled nearly every night.

With two extra (super fun and chill) adults we had company in household tasks and didn’t fall into regular roles. Turns out most household tasks are more fun with company (and when its not your house).

We sent the kids to bed downstairs with instructions to turn off the TV after one episode of “Full House” (oh the luxuries of cable TV, flat screen TVs, and Nick at Night). We stayed up late on the deck in the dark, and finished the evening with bad TV.

We slathered sunscreen upon waking. We ran on the beach. We caught anoles. We counted dolphins at sunrise. We avoided jellyfish. At high tide the waves crashed on the steps.