We took Maggie and Sydney on a little bit of a hike today and it was fun to be nearly the only people on the trail because it was a bit rainy and apparently everyone else was busy watching football. On the way down Maggie was a trooper and was happy to yell orders from the backpack, but eventually she wanted down. On the way back up, she was happy to trudge along and wear Barry’s hat.
Barry was trying to take a few pictures of us and Maggie suddenly became really interested in the camera….so she allowed her to take a few shots. I’d like to think that she was going more for the artistic angle on the one of me above. That’s my girl, right? We eventually made it to the beach and took an awkward family picture with the self-timer.
We went through a tunnel and Sydney did some sprints on the beach….and then the most awful thing in the whole universe happened. (okay, maybe not the universe, but MY universe today)
My camera fell into the sand while the self-timer was on.
This is the final shot: (ignore the double chin, thanks)
I’m pretty sure my camera will survive, but as I told Barry a piece of my heart broke off when it happened. He said he was shocked that I didn’t dive to catch the camera as it fell off the log it was perched on.
He’s right, I should have dove head first as if I were catching a football for a touchdown.
Dang.
Then I could have done a touchdown dance instead of deciding never, ever to take my camera to the beach again.
Double Dang.