It was another day in paradise with little green palm trees.  All things considered, I think I might miss the snow.

Have I ever mentioned how much I dislike Florida?  It’s hot, and it’s sticky, and there are bugs the size of small dogs.  The beach is beautiful, but I can’t stand the sun long enough to spend much time in it.  I can get sunburned on the way from the house to the car.

I ignite in the sun…like a vampire.

My girls love the sun.  They spend as much time as humanly possible in the sun, and argue with me when I dole out instructions to coat their skin with sunscreen.  It would seem that it is their goal to look like a leather belt with eyes in their old age.  They don’t believe in the fairy tale that is skin cancer.  They do however believe in the fairy tale about how they could survive on their own in the wild.  How ridiculous!  I’m still waiting for someone to come up with the cure for teenagers.  I hear it will be available in a few years time.  Not nearly soon enough for my taste.

We had a nasty little run in with the teenagers today.  Much to my chagrin, they had friends from Atlanta who were spring breaking in Panama City.  They had begged us to allow them to “hang out” with their friends for the day while we continued our vigil at the hospital, and commiserated with the rest of the family.  While I spent the day with the in-laws, the girls enjoyed a day at the beach. 

That was where they concocted their diabolical plan.  

They were determined to be left at the beach without us for the remainder of the week.  They had devised an entire scenario that involved a pregnant aunt, a bunch of teenagers, and a large dose of faith.   

It never ceases to amaze me how they find it surprising when we say no. 

Unfortunately it looks as if they may have gotten their wish.  As much as I miss my own bed, it seems as if I will be sleeping in the horrible bed for one more night. 

Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for our family—and my husband’s grandmother is worth one more sleepless night. 

As for tomorrow—there will be no beach for me.  Instead it will be time spent on a much higher purpose.  I will be the last person to sleep on the horrible bed.  We’re taking it out of the house to make room for a hospital bed so they can bring Grandmother home.  It’s important to be home.  It makes everything feel just a little bit better.  I wouldn’t mind being there myself.

Until the next time…I’ll be clicking my ruby heels together!