two completely different vacations took place last week on topsail island. in one, twenty-five members of my extended family convened for the annual atkins reunion, ranging in age from still-in-the-belly all the way up to 86. we swam, we rocked in the hammocks, we ate, we built sand castles, we played bocce, we ate, we acted out charades, we went clamming, we ate, we told stories, we boated, we ate ... we had an absolutely fantastic time, as we always do.
in stark contrast to our week of bliss was the vacation of mr. green. mr. green had decided to take a trip up the coast and found topsail island to be just what he was looking for. the scenery was beautiful, but unfortunately, he soon surmised that the inhabitants were quite rude -- if he dared take a walk on the sand, he was met with shrieks and pointing and just impolite behavior. so he chose to spend most of his time in the ocean, floating along over the crests of waves, soaking in the sun, minding his own business. but then he heard sirens, and glancing toward the shore, he was surprised to see crowds gathered, monitoring his every move. he sighed. all he'd wanted was a little peace and quiet; a getaway from the wife who had the tendency to snap at him.
our week ended with hugs and kisses and the countdown (less than 51 weeks!) to the next reunion. mr. green's week ended in the hands of police and firefighters and ultimately in the custody of the north carolina wildlife commission. i'm sure they're still scratching their heads, trying to figure out how in the world an alligator managed to get all the way to topsail.
happy trails, mr. green ... or, (and you know i couldn't resist) ... see ya later, alligator.
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