Revenge of the Mondays or why having a weekend sucks because there is an end to it: part one

Oi, fucking Monday.

I've been trying to sit and write a quick post all day, but that has not happened. Tis the season to be crazy busy and inundated with crap to do. Joy! Joy!

This past week the fam went to Morro Bay for the annual camping trip, but as I was just on "vacation" (load of bollocks, I was in school people!!) for four months and I have a shit-ton-o-weddings to go to out of state coming up, I need to save my vacay time and decided I would just go for the weekend.
Before heading out of town I was gassing up my girl and as I'm doing so I notice I'm the young lady in the middle of an old-man-staring potluck. Seriously, every dude there was over 55 and apparently has never seen a 20 something girl pumping gas at 8:15 in the morning on a Saturday. I totally got the creepies and pulled out of there as quick as I could.
Sooo, I get to the camp and we went out on the beach to play in the sand with the little tyke. How many adults does it take to entertain a 2 y/old? 3. :) And this little guy was covered head to toe in sand, possibly b/c we found it hilarious to bury him in the sand... as did he.

Sara and I occupied ourselves by playing some Phase 10 (of which I will demand a rematch as she unfairly kicked. my. ass.) and by perhaps being bigger kids than the actual kids there.

Can you see the family resemblence?

Here are some shots of the area around the camp, we were basically right on the water in Morro Bay.

We took Holly the hound dog for a walk, and the sunset was beeeeuuutiful!

All in all, good times. I've got some funny stories, but they'll have to be part deux of this post, as I'm yet again, out of time.


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