I get in my bed, and it’s full of sand:
Our day at the beach didn’t go as planned.
Jellyfish, sunburn, trash in the ocean,
Galveston heat you could bake a brioche in;
No bathroom in sight for our potty-trainee,
just a castle-shaped bucket, my purse, or the sea.
The kiddos took turns getting sand in their eyes
while I felt ashamed of my cake-batter thighs.
We know that it’s senseless, but once every summer
we spring for a day trip that’s always a bummer.
Next weekend, we’ll happily hang out at home,
away from the Gulf and its feculent foam.