A Day at the beach

[cartoon id="297842"] Going to the beach is not for the faint of heart. The female wing of the family decided to take a trip to the waterfront last weekend, and Dad was immediately not on board. To Dad, the beach means sand in everyone’s clothes, sand in our bags, and worst of all, sand in his precious car. To Mom, the beach means a place to relax and get fruit drinks with little umbrellas in them. To my sister, the beach is a place to build sandcastles and play volleyball. To me, the beach is a place to get repeatedly knocked over by waves until my skin is completely exfoliated. I immediately took the beauty angle. “Dad,” I said, “Don’t you want me to be pretty? The beach will make my skin so much smoother.” Dad shook his head. “You’re already pretty.” Darn. That was a hard response to tackle. Then Mom tried her approach. “Wouldn’t you like a fruit drink with an umbrella in it?” she asked. Dad said he could make his own fruit drink without an umbrella. “You can’t eat the umbrella, anyway,” he said. “You could if you tried,” quipped my sister. “No umbrellas. No drinks. No beach,” said Dad. Now it was my sister’s turn to get creative. She already knew that Dad didn’t like sand castles or volleyball. “Dad, if you drive us to the beach, we can stop at Taco Bell on the way home,” she proposed. This was a novel approach. I knew how much Dad liked Taco Bell. Despite the digestive issues that chain has caused for my family, we still have an inextinguishable love for tacos. Dad hemmed. We waited. Dad hawed. We waited. Dad said “Well…” and we waited some more. At last he said “Yes.” We threw blankets and sun umbrellas in the car and were off. We arrived at the beach, stepped out of the car, and immediately jumped back in. The sand was like lava. We put on Crocs and slippers and tried again. This time we made it down to the water. I had my bathing suit on under my clothes, so I was ready to swim in a jiffy. I entered the water and was knocked over by one wave. Then another. Then another. Then I climbed out. “I’m finished,” I said. My sister had made a small sand castle, and my Mom had just bought a fruit drink (with a little umbrella in it, of course). So a mere 15 minutes after we got to the beach, we were on the way home again. We didn’t forget to stop at Taco Bell. In fact, after our long drive to the beach, it took 30 minutes of constant eating before we were finally satisfied. So it was a good trip to Taco Bell, with a beach visit thrown in. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Interestingly enough, when we got home, Dad asked when we would have another trip to the beach. “Just let us know whenever you want to visit McDonalds,” said my sister. - Copyright 2025 Alexandra Paskhaver, distributed exclusively by Cagle Cartoons newspaper syndicate. Alexandra Paskhaver is a software engineer and writer. Both jobs require knowing where to stick semicolons, but she’s never quite; figured; it; out. For more information, check out her website at https://apaskhaver.github.io.