In honor of our upcoming week at the beach (yes, an entire week!) this week’s travel blooper features a rather sad Jersey Shore incident that took place several years ago. Let’s hope we don’t have a repeat in St. Martin…
Jersey Shore, circa 2012: my-not-yet-ex-boyfriend and I took a trip to the beach with his two teenage sons, who were visiting for the summer. Being the efficient planner that I am, I suggested we pack sandwiches the night before and helped the boys divvy up the lunch prep duties before carefully packing the sandwiches into the same bag the slices of bread had originally come from in order to cut down on the use of Ziplocs.
I did not know at the time that recycled bread bags are not boy-proof. Certainly not teenage boy-proof.
So I sat there reading my book, trying to ignore all of the incessant Star Wars chatter, very much looking forward to lunch time because I had a perfectly lovely whole wheat turkey and provolone sandwich waiting for me in the cooler.
But the boys got hungry first and no sooner had they removed the bag from the cooler than all four of our sandwiches fell spread-eagle onto the sand.
It was one of the most tragic moments of my life, made all the more tragic by the sudden onslaught of ravenous seagulls, which the boys thought was funny.
It was not funny. It was terrifying.
And it didn’t look anything like this:
Moral of the Story? Eco warrior tendencies and teenage boys do not mix. Just let them use the damn Ziplocs.