Back in Chicago after the briefest of jaunts west to share the ladies' final weekend in La Jolla at Grandma's house. And it was absolutely magnificent! I have not swum in the ocean or sat on the beach in ... well, possibly ten years. Grandma (sometimes also known as Jackie) is a magnificent hostess with a beautiful home and a terrific hot tub - which I was immediately ordered to jump into by Commandant Daisy.
In addition to playing the beach bum, Heidi bought me my birthday present (early, and wonderfully timed): my first ever pair of Ray Ban sunglasses. They are black Wayfarers with blue trim; Heidi dubbed them "Elvis Costello meets Risky Business." I approve.
We also made a trip to the aquarium, where the above photo was taken.
Oh, and the title of this post comes from a moment of the third day. After spending plenty of time observing specimens at the aquarium, we made a trip to the beach. As I was making my way back to shore, I looked down and saw something moving past me. The thought process that followed went something like this "Oh look, a shark, no wait, sharks are dangerous, that was just a fish that nope, nope that's a shark alright, well then let's make our way towards shore, yep, shark, actually that's awesome, where did it go? I want to see it again and also avoid it, Shark!"
In the words of Tracy Jordan, "Live every week like it's shark week."
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