Some people go to the beach for long walks. Some go to watch the sun set or to look for migrating gray whales.
Not my family. We go to the beach to dig.
Last week, my husband made a bit of a spectacle of himself after Christian wrecked his tunnel through the sand. Apparently, the damp sand conditions there at Crystal Cove made for a “once-in-a-lifetime” opportunity for tunnel hole construction, and not only did I miss taking the right video, but Christian and I both failed to recognize the importance of the occasion.
Hence, I was mildly apprehensive about returning to Crystal Cove today EVEN THOUGH Chad assured me that his new man-sized shovel would make everything better.
Turned out that conditions WERE STILL PERFECT for tunnel-building.
Christian and I did nothing to break Chad’s concentration, except to feed him bits of beef jerky and milk chocolate from time to time.
Then, when construction was complete, I assisted with the camera (Chad generously overlooked the fact that I’d forgotten the real camera and had to use my phone) and Christian was prepped on his lines. Yes, and after SIX takes, we got an acceptable video. I pointed out that even professional child actors probably needed that many takes; still, Chad grumbled that he would expect a little more COOPERATION from a paid actor…
P.S. I have no idea why Christian is supposed to yell ” Parachute!” when he emerges from the tunnel.