Saturday, July 21, Kitty Hawk, NC. 10:00 a.m. - Left home at 8:15 or so to avoid traffic. Mission successful, but we can’t check into our cottage until 4 pm. I’ve made a huge mistake.
11:00 – We stroll on the beach. The sky is overcast, and threatens rain. This might not work out.
12:30 p.m. -In-laws arrive. Now there are 6 of us wandering around with nothing to do and nowhere to go.
12:45 - We decide to go to get tacos.
2:30 -Lunch concludes with still no word from the agency about our cottage. The sky continues to darken. The women, with no regard for my flagging enthusiasm, decide to drive to the outlet mall in search of infant apparel. Anticipation of the arrival of the adorable and pleasant nephew Isaac has whipped them into a fury of shopping. My mood darkens along with the sky.
3:30 - The call comes in – the cottage is ready. We also learn that D’awwwwBABY has arrived. Am I wrong to want nothing to do with humanity for the rest of the evening? Yes, my wife tells me - I am wrong.
4:05 -We arrive at the cottage. For one brief moment my mood lightens. I love my little nephew. He’s adorable. I can’t wait to see him. His mother brings him around the corner and we say hello. He beams his one-year old smile at all and sundry. He has learned how to hug, apparently. He hugs his Nana and Papa D. He hugs my wife, his aunt Rachel. I go in for a hug too because hey, cute. Denied. He turns away in what I assume is pants-wetting fear of my full and luxurious beard. When you grow a beard like mine, you accept a few things:
- You will constantly break the hearts of women
- Men will look on it and hold their manhoods cheap
- Children are not emotionally equipped to deal with your great and terrible countenance
Still…bummer. I wanted a hug.
If I can pry myself away from my booze, cigars, and light reading, I will write again to discuss the day’s events at awful, interminable length.