Shhhh, Don't Tell Taylor...

I'm planning a surprise for my kid. Close readers of this blog realize that we live in the frickin' armpit of the country...ooops...I mean sunny South Florida. Despite this, my sweet daughter has never been swimming at the beach. Many who live within a mile or two of the beach, never step foot on it. That's us. T has played on the beach 2 or 3 times, at sunset.

I admit that I'm a bit chicken about undertows and all. That's another reason. Anyway, I plan to remedy this woeful lack of socialization this weekend. Hot on the heels of T's hula party at camp, we're headed down to Key Largo on Saturday. Pennekamp State Park. We'll play on the beach (which has much less waves and no undertoe), perhaps rent a canoe and paddle around in the mangroves (taking care to slather ourselves in bug repellant so that the skeeters don't pick T up and fly off with her), perhaps picnic on the beach, and have yummy sea food for dinner.

That's the plan, at least.

Pray that reality doesn't ruin the whole thing with my dad wigging out. If he does, it will just have to play itself out, as we'll be about 2 hours south. Que sera, sera...my new motto.

So, (if I can successfully crop out Dot or I, who will be donned in our Orca suits, from the pictures), you may get some pics. Meanwhile, I may hunt up our old Doris Day album for inspiration:

When I was just, a lit-tle girl...

I asked my mother, what I would be...

Will I be pretty, will I be rich...

Here's what she said, to me....

Que sera, sera

Whatever will be, will be

The future's not ours, to see..

Que sera, sera!

What will be, will be...