H. and I are heading to Myrtle Beach, SC tomorrow. H.'s birthday is next Tuesday and, as mine always falls a week after hers, we have our own little celebration together. This time it's going to the beach. How old will I be, you ask? I don't really want to write it out. The answer I always think of is that given by Kris Kringle in Miracle on 34th Streetr - I am am as old as my tongue and older than my teeth. That has always delighted me.
H. and I will spend the weekend in Myrtle Beach in our hotel by the ocean on our balcony overlooking the beach. We will drink lovely adult beverages and read trashy books. We will eat terrible for us food and let the beach be our pedicurist. Yes, yes. I know. It will be wonderful.
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