Summer shorts…

Last year at the beach, I collected a dried piece of sea foliage. This reminded me of a trip to Florida as a child. My family traveled with another family, four adults and four kids packed into a station wagon. (Pre seat belt era).

            My friend Mark collected a dead horseshoe crab. The creature was a little armored tank with legs. We toted this dead tank with us for many miles in Florida high summer heat. The crab began to smell worse than dead.     

            When we stopped at a shopping center, the other family went into the store. Our family sat with the dead stink, all the windows down.

            Mom tucked the prehistoric creature underneath the car before our friends came out. When done shopping, we drove off.

            Mark threw such a hissy fit that we had to drive back to the parking lot to pick up the smelly, but more dried out dead thing.

            Was Mark’s beach find less important than my find? Yes, yes it was. We could’ve died in a station wagon in Florida from the stench of that horseshoe crab.

            My treasure didn’t smell. I made sure to give it a sniff.

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