Every year, Hubby and I go to Oceanside, California, where his Aunt Jan and family graciously put us up for a week, thereby allowing Hubby to wallow in all the beachyness he can possibly handle.
The boy was born in the wrong state, y’all, no lie.
We were especially looking forward to this year’s trip because, while not technically Maggie’s first trip to the beach, this year she was old enough to do more than sleep in a sling while Mommy sat in a chair and read a book.
So, we lathered up the girl with sunscreen and donned her swimsuit, cover-up and sandals. (Going to the beach is, after all, about the fashion.)
Things started off well. Maggie enjoyed the sand immensely. Much sand-flinging and bucket-dragging ensued upon our arrival.
She also liked walking along the hard-packed sand near the water’s edge.
The Doodle was less than thrilled with the water itself, however.
Here’s the up-close reaction.
It was likely the sub-zero water temperature. That’s exaggerating a bit, but dang, that water was C.O.L.D. I would have cried, too, but I like to keep myself out of salt water if at all possible.
All was happiness and love again, though, once we got away from the ocean and back to the business of digging, digging, digging.
Burying Mommy’s foot takes a lot of concentration. I would like to note that she scooped less sand on me than she banged my foot with the rough plastic edge of that funnel. Not that I’m complaining about the pain or anything :) 
All in all, a good day for the Doodle.
If only I could pull off a ruffle-bummed yellow swimsuit so well.