I just read a fun fact, the average human will produce enough saliva to fill two swimming pools. Yuck and Hmm How big of a pool? Didn’t say….Squirrel!
I went to the beach today. A nice cool breeze sent a chill around my nape. This airy little sweater isn’t enough. I held my arms tight around my waist keeping the warm inside. Yet, the breeze felt good against my skin. It tingled. The warmth of the sun kissed my cheeks. Spring is in the air.
The big puffy clouds filled the sky as the sun danced between them all. A touch of gray was not quite enough to make it rain. The sidewalk was hustling with people and puppies. I sat and remember the days when it only cost a quarter for a bus ride to the beach.
The kids throughout the neighborhood would wait for hours for the bus to take them to the beach. Three-Quarters of them have traveled down this highway before. A dozen of them have taken the other bus that isn’t as crowded to the beach. Half-pint has never taken the bus to this beach before, nope, never.
The bus is very long and very crowded.
It takes a very brave person to squeeze in. However, a quarter of them decided it’s not worth it to them and leave. Ninety percent of the adults will decide to take a different route when they see the jam packed bus with screaming kids coming around the corner. After an hours wait, the bus has arrived. The door swings open and the drive says, “Are you coming?”
K-e-r-p-l-u-n-k our coins drop into the machine as the doors slam shut behind us. Sqeak, ppssss. Sqeak, ppssss. Sqeak, ppssss. Bouncy. Bouncy. Bouncy. Suddenly…
Whoa! Three-Quarters of them slid from side to side in their seats. A dozen of them held on to the dangling straps. Half-pint squished between the bodies with nothing to hang on to.
The bus barreled down the road.
It screeched to a halt.
It swings it doors open for more people to pile on in.
Everyone including half-pint is pushed further toward the back of the bus. Ppppplllllleeeeeeeaaaaaaaassssssseeeeeee!
Hours later, we arrived.
Three-Quarters of the people head for the doors. A dozen remain behind. Half-pint races for the sandy shores.