1. Like the rest of the world, I've been watching the Olympics after the kids go to bed, exhausted from hours spent on the beach in the sun. Yes, I also Simone is the greatest. Yes, I'm impressed by the staying power of the red lipstick those synchronized swimmers are wearing. Yes, I, too, cry every time I see someones' dream coming true. But here is what I can't get over: does anybody else wonder why the media choses to interview the runners IMMEDIATELY AFTER they just ran for their life? I mean, can't we let them catch their breath before you start asking them twenty questions, rapid fire-style? I can't even understand them as they try to answer in-between their desperate gasps for air.
2. You know what's better than a nap? A vacation nap. The only person who doesn't believe me is Marlo.
3. Imagine visiting a swamp’s ass. Then imagine spending a week there. That is Florida in the middle of August.
4. Marlo still doesn't understand why she has to wear a bathing suit top (or a bathing suit at all, for that matter) when her male cousins don't. I let her run around in her bikini bottoms because I don't think it's a big deal and... hello... she's four. But it wasn't enough for her. We caught her trying to take her entire bathing suit off more times than I could count. I bargained with her and told her that, one day, and, hopefully one day soon, we'll take her to Europe where people aren't prudes and a child being naked isn't shamed and she can prance around the beach-- crowded or not-- in her birthday suit without receiving evil glares from over-tanned Florida retirees. She actually made me promise her. And I did.
5. Much to my utter disbelief, rosé can, in fact, taste better than it consistently does. How can perfection be topped, you may wonder? I had the same concerned thought. However, while rosé is admittedly pretty perfect as is, I discovered that if you drink it out of a blue solo cup, during the middle of a weekday while sitting on a beach as the waves crash at your feet and your kids play nicely together nearby in the sand, it is unmistakably flawless. Mark my words, people. FLAWLESS.