Beached by her dislike of sand

ARE you the ruler of your home or do your kids manage to stump, snooker or plain out-smart you?

Well, I have been out-gunned by a three-year-old!

We thought we would spend a few special hours as a family on the beach. Mistake number one.

We spent one third of that rare special family bonding time sloshing on sunscreen, searching for sun-smart hats and launching a rescue mission in the car boot for swim nappies.

However, we finally made it to The Promised Land.

By the time we hit the beach we were all a bit frazzled but determined to have FUN!

This pregnant mother must have looked a treat panting and puffing as I lugged our massive toddler on my hip and dragged the two shih tzus down the beach.

Miss Three was tugging on my kaftan asking to be picked up the entire time. I tried to throw her off my trail by telling her to go and ask Daddy for a pony.

When we arrived at our little gritty slice of Nirvana I all but screamed it to family, "We are here to have fun! We will have fun! Do you all understand? There is fun to be had!"

Crazy mother.

My husband had that terrified look in his eyes when I ask him if he thinks the sheets on the bed just wash themselves.

However Miss Three in her togs looked me straight in the eye and replied to my commandment that we would have family fun - "I hate the beach!"

Hate the beach? How could this be possible? The beach surely is every child's paradise? When I quizzed her on how she could dislike the beach, Miss Three replied, "I do not like sand in between my toes. It feels yuk."

Wow. The old gritty-sand-in-the-toe phobia. I vaguely remember as a child also possibly having an aversion to dirt and grime, and I definitely remember my bikini bottoms always filling up with buckets of sand.

I am taking the approach that less is more with the fuss about sand-in-toes.

I figure the lure of the great outdoors will surely be enough bribery next time to overcome any sand-on-skin paranoia.

So I just slyly said that next time we would have to go without Miss Three to the beach.

I sat back smugly thinking I had won. Miss Three will surely panic and insist on coming with us on our next joyous trip as one big happy functional family. Just like in the movies.

Instead, she replied, "Well, great. Perhaps Big W could keep me while you go to the beach. There is no sand there."

This mother was left dumbfounded and indeed right royally stumped. Snookered. Out-smarted.


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