Storming the Beaches of Sea Isle

My extended family have once again invaded a stretch of coastline at the Jersey Shore and some good stuff  has ensued: drinking, pickleball, communal dinners, dolphin sightings, clear temperate water, competitive cornhole, sun, sand, salt, etcetera but it has come at a price— a casualty while storming the beach: I packed the circular Spikeball net but forgot to pack the bag of Spikeballs but my wife found a couple for sale in a five and dime type store and so the kids and my brother went up by the dunes to play, while I wisely remained on the cornhole pitch— and my brother soon returned with a bloody big toe and his big toenail was hanging on by a thread, apparently the toe nail caught on his other foot when he dove for a ball and it ripped up and out, very ugly, but his wife— a nurse— washed it and taped it up and then my brother drank some bourbon as anesthetic— he was claiming he would be playing pickleball this morning, but I highly doubt it.

No comments:

A New Sentence Every Day, Hand Crafted from the Finest Corinthian Leather.