The first time we all rented a house at the beach, we were 23-25 years old. It rained. We stayed drunk for 2.5 days, listening to Ben Folds Five and daring each other to swim in the rain.
The second time was several years later. "We all" was a slightly different set of people. We listened to a lot of "This American Life" on the iPod and I was pregnant. The so-called lodge was a roach-infested trailer, but the upside of staying in crappy conditions on a deserted island was finding lots of perfect sand dollars on the untouched beach. I wrote Lucy's name in the sand for the first time, and looked at it until the waves came to take it away (my first hint she was a girl).
This year (and there have been a couple of trips in the interim), we rented a great place just off the beach in Port Aransas and the trip included four kids, lots of games, naps, sun and good food.
