Peeves

I really cannot stand when words are messed with and made to end with an "x" in stead of "nks" Banx. Thanx. Spanx. Blech. And have you heard about the new trend in baby names? It's to spell Jackson with an x. Jaxon. JAXON. Are you kidding me?

And why, oh, why must we ever be affronted with the very offensive c-changed-to-a-k?? "Kar Kleaners" "Kat Kare" "Kool Kars" Krap, krap, krap.

Lastly, this is not grammar related, but I really just HATE when I see those magnetic ribbons on cars ("Support our Troops", "God Bless America", "Find a Cure") and they are friggin' sideways, so as to better read the message. Who are these morons that don't know the loop goes on the top? We don't need them crooked to be able to read them!!! Aack! I just can't handle it.

Oh, and uh, I am equally opposed to genocide, child abuse, animal testing and all that other stuff. Ahem.

Thanks, I feel better.

The Bay Keeps On Giving

So, yeah - I mentioned all the fun beach treasures that we found Thursday, but failed to say we brought some home with us. And I have gotten pretty particular about what we take, because last year I found the coolest cluster of snail shells and brought them with us only to have them start moving when I tried to rinse them off in the back yard. ICK. Anyway, new goal is to always check things for signs of inhabitation/life before leaving the beach. And check I did - mostly all we had were some pretty shell pieces and a couple sticks of twisty drift wood, but Gabe did have one cool, big snail shell. Upon inspection it looked empty enough and Gabe played with it throughout the afternoon at the beach. When it was time to leave, we gathered our collection into a bag and put it into the trunk. That was the last I thought of it until this morning when we all piled into the car to go somewhere and Aaron says "Kristen, what did you leave in your car?!" I had no idea, but I did know that the stench that was pouring forth was not a good sign. We frantically tried to pinpoint the source and once I popped the trunk, the source revealed itself: the sack of shells, of course! I had been right, there was no snail inside that shell. There was, however, one very dead and stinky hermit crab! Poor little guy.

Moral of the story: just never, ever bring home a snail shell. Ever.

Rest in peace, Hermie.

Horseshoe Crab

After being stuck inside all week, the boys and I dedcided to take advantage of yesterday's gorgeous weather and head out to the beach. We went to Chick's Beach which is on the Chesapeake Bay. The day did not disappoint and we had a blast, as well as the beach to ourselves. Due to recent stormy weather, all sorts of debris had washed ashore. Reeds everywhere, shells and all sorts of sea life including a few horseshoe crabs. The biggest of which had washed up close to our blanket - and I do mean big! Half the size of Dylan big - and Dylan was not having it. He first went over and examined it, then began jabbering away about it and motioning with his hands (first picture), then he got downright annoyed and let the thing have it (second picture)! After giving the poor (dead) crab an earful, he turned on his heels and walked away, no doubt satisfied at having defended his turf.