Even though Tony and I live 10 minutes from the most beautiful beaches on the East Coast, we’re just not really into the beach. I don’t like to be wet, Tony doesn’t like to be hot, and we’re both too paranoid and neurotic to allow ourselves to get sun tans.
But I just found these pictures of us at the beach from June, and I had to post them to prove that we’ve actually been to the beach at least once.
On a whim one Sunday evening we packed up some books and a blanket and went to the beach for approximately one hour before the sun and the sand and the bugs got to us. Using the parking meter as an excuse, we packed up our books and left, but not before I made Tony pose for at least one picture of himself at the beach smiling. If we’re leaving North Carolina, we should at least have that.
The picture above was my fourth attempt. I kept telling him, “Let’s take it again. SMILE! You look like I’m torturing you!”
This is a more accurate depiction of Tony at the beach:
And here I am pretending to LOVE my casual beach lifestyle. Soon I’ll jump into the dirty, fish poop infested water for a dip or maybe even jump on a surfboard despite the high probability that I’ll be attacked by a shark. It could happen. I’ve been watching Shark Week.