the sweet smell of vacation

Some strange phenomenon happened last week while at the beach that left quite a stink. Apparently, somewhere not far off the Atlantic coast, the temperature of the ocean water dropped suddenly by about 20 degrees. The result of this was that the fish, being displeased with this boycott of warmth, decided that they would prove some type of point by dying. So, floating on the ocean for as far as the eye could see, literally thousands of dead fish could be seen drifting along with the waves. Naturally, it was only a matter of time before these same dead fish on the water washed onto the shore.

So the one day of pleasant weather we had was spent with an overpowering scent of dead, rotting fish. Sunscreen was forsaken for gas masks and smudges of Vasoline placed upon the upper lip, right under the nose.

One thing these dead, stinking fish lying up and down the shore did provide, however, was a noted difference between little boys and little girls. For the most part, almost every boy under the age of ten had a great fascination with these rotting corpses. They'd poke and prod these fish with shovels and shells, displaying great pride when one of them would be able to dislodge an eye. They would strut along the beach, gladly displaying this eye upon their shovel to anyone passing by.

The little girls, on the other hand, all pretty much had the same reaction to these treasures that the boys would proudly present to them, which was to run off in the opposite direction screaming at the top of their lungs. Dead fish aside, these differences were evident in other ways too.

The boys would inevitably be out in the ocean on their little boogie boards, charging the waves, getting wiped out, and would go back out for more, complete with scraped faces after being dragged across the ocean floor and deposited somewhere along the shore. Girls rarely ventured out for this type of excitement. Rather, they would usually stay near the shore either jumping over those waves that were small enough, or running away from those that were over their knees.

I noticed a little girl, about four years old, sitting near her father carefully constructing a few little sandcastles. I watched, thinking to myself that this was a perfect example of the more timid nature of girls. I figured that she was probably imagining herself as a princess ruling over her tiny little kingdom.

It was at about this time that the little girl stood up and yelled, "HEY DAD! I'M GONNA CRUSH THE WORLD!" And she proceeded to stomp on every castle that she made...complete with sound effects...after which she raised her fists in the air, struck a little muscle-man pose, and paraded around the remains of her kingdom. She then took her older brother's boogie board, charged out toward the sea, and laid down on her stomach waiting for the next wave to shoot her back up the beach.

So I'm left thinking that this girl is going to be running the country someday...well, either that or she'll be some type of criminal mastermind...but either way, we could definitely use a few more world-crushing women walking around.