This weekend, Bug and I went to the 52nd Annual Sand Castle Competition at our old beach. We love the sand castle competition. We call it the Sand Castle Festival because to us, it is.
I’ve been going to it for years. There was that one year we actually entered with my whole family before Bug was born…. Even my Grandpa was there helping us dig and bring up buckets of water from the beach. Then there was that one year when I couldn’t stop crying and that was the day I decided to end my marriage. Bug didn’t know. (You guys didn’t know.) She was so busy looking at all the castles she didn’t notice my tears. I have so many memories of the sand castles…good and bad all mixed up. It’s just been part of our lives for so long. We can’t skip it.
We were a bit late this time. We shuffled along with all the other people crowding around the entries, trying to get a good angle to take a decent photo without all the people-miscellany in the background. I don’t know why the people who build the castles always set up the messiest of camps right behind their works of art. Buckets, tables, sweatshirts, coolers, stereos…It’s just a mess. It makes it impossible to get a great shot of the amazing castles. I wish they’d turn the contest around and then we could have the ocean in the background. That would make a whole lot more sense. I don’t know where they’d put their camp but whatever. I’m not the king of the Sand Castle Festival. Surely they can come up with some kind of rule about beach crap.
So when I sat down today to look through my photos and put together some kind of post about the Sand Castle Festival (because, you know, it’s so important to me) I went through every single photo and discarded it until I got to these shots of Bug.
Oh Bug. Beautiful, Silly, Bug.
She can not wash her hair for a week, have zits on her face because I don’t make her wash it regularly. (Bad momming on my part. I know.) She can make monkey faces and roll her eyes into the back of her head and still my camera adores her. I’m sorry. I know she’s my kid and it’s normal to think your kid is the most amazing thing on earth. But she brings me so much happiness from the inside and out. This wasn’t a photo shoot. We were just walking back from the beach and we sat down on a bench outside a store. The light was soft and reflected from the buildings across the street. It was the perfect lighting condition.
I should remember this spot and bring people here for professional portraits. Not that I’m saying these are professional portraits or I’m a professional photographer. Far from it. Most of these shots are blurry. But I just snapped. And snapped and snapped and snapped . (My camera, not my voice. I’m doing much better on that front!) And she didn’t mind. She’s used to it. She’s my little ham.
I’m so thankful for my photographic kid who cracks me up. She might frustrate me to no end on other days but then we have days like this and it all works out in the end.
It all works out. I’m so thankful.
Then I thought, maybe the light is so good it will make me look good too. Heh! Not so flattering to me but then again this is what I look like. I look like my mom and I would love love love to have a picture of my mom when she was 41. She was beautiful. I might not think I look so beautiful right now but I’m sure when I’m 80 I will think so. And I know Bug thinks so. This is what her mom looks like.