baked sea scallops at the
~Another dose of clam chowder (when you're a fan you just can't get enough!)
~fried clams (and Boston baked beans) at Durgin-Park
~and the finale...drum roll....
But what I ate and where I walked isn't what I want to talk about today. There's a boy that's been on my mind.......
On Day One, cousin Jackie cheerfully took off work to spend time on the Cape with me and my daughter. Gorgeous day, began a little overcast, mid 70s, ended up mostly sunny and still coolish.
So I'm out there, jumping over and diving into waves with a scant number of others who temporarily had lost their senses (and feeling in their limbs), when I'm interrupted by a boy, about 8 years old, wailing his lungs out. He races out of the ocean and face plants in the sand. Immediately I think something terrible has happened to him: he's been bitten by a sea creature or stepped on a surly crab.
Any toddler lacking drama techniques could have learned a lot from this kid about how to have an impressive tantrum in public. Really, it qualified as an Oscar nomination performance.
Father and mother can't console their son. People within 56 nautical miles could have heard the boy sobbing the words, "My sunglasses! I want my sunglasses!"
The boy had lost his sunglasses in the surf and life as he'd known it mere minutes ago, was over.
I spent another twenty, twenty-five minutes frolicking in the waves then strolled the beach with my cousin. About a quarter of a mile down I see some sunglasses perched on the dry sand. Like someone carefully set them down before going in the water.
Impossible, I think. They can't be THE sunglasses.
I pick them up. Definitely kid sunglasses; Jackie recognizes the car depicted on the earpieces as being one from the animated movie, "Cars".
The dad looks at me.
"Are these the glasses he
lost?" I ask.
Dad's jaw drops when he sees the red plastic glasses.
"No way!!" He takes them from me, an awed expression on his face. "I can't believe you found them!"
Neither could I but there you have it. They'd rocked, rolled and reeled in the surf before being cast out onto the sand for someone to find and it just happened to be me. Rescued sunglasses equaled happy boy and happy parents. The day was as good as new.
It reminded me of something one of my undergrad psychology professors said that I've utilized hundreds of times since: "You can start a day over whenever you choose and as often as you need to."
Great advice. Once every month I'd love to start mine over with a lobster or scallops!