This Emscapade took place on the beach of Pawley's Island, South Carolina. I was taking an innocent stroll along the ocean shore, Graham in tow, when I got caught in the middle, literally, of an exchange between a grandma (I assume) and her grandson.
As Graham and I were walking by, the grandma to my right, the ocean to my left, the grandma started yelling toward the ocean in her deep southern draw (sounded more like a West Virginia accent than a South Carolina accent, but what do I know?) to "wipe your hands."
The next thing I know, the boy she was yelling to is wiping his sand-covered hands all down my chest, belly and thighs. My jaw dropped to the ground as I looked down and saw the massive amount of sand that was now all over my black bathing suite and shorts.
Next, I looked down at the boy, fully expecting to see a little three-year-old looking up at me and realizing I wasn't his mom or his Grandma or whoever he thought I was, and panicking.
Instead, I saw a five or six year old look up at me, grinning from ear to ear and marveling at his clean hands and my filthy bathing suit, before running away. His reaction only added to my previous state of shock.
My mouth was still open when the grandma, who witnessed the entire exchange, quickly came over to remedy the situation.
She said to me, in her thick southern draw, "Sorry about that. He do know better, but at the same time, he don't. You know what I mean? He do, but he don't." I tried to comprehend what point she was trying to make but I think it became clear to her that I didn't know what she meant at all, when I was still standing there speechless. I said nothing.
She diverted her attention to Graham who was resting on my hip throughout the entire incident and added, "Well ain't he a cutie?" Again, I said nothing. There aren't too many times in my life when I have been left speechless, but this was one of them.
Needless to say, our beach walk ended early. I turned around and headed back to our house where I proceeded to jump in the pool as what I saw as the best and fastest way to get the massive amount of sand off my body.
That quickly became our motto for the rest of the trip. "He do know better, but at the same time he don't. He do, but he don't."
So what do you think? Was this a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or just like I am a magnet for random conversations, am I also a magnet for random kids to use me like a hand towel?
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