Give Me That Vitamin C

It is 8:30 pm and I am just getting home from the beach. I am a bit afraid to tell you that I woke up this morning to my nose training for a marathon, and quite possibly there are not enough numbers in existence to calculate the amount of times I have sneezed.

But my blog today is not about me and my annoying allergies. Nor is it about my day four hours at the beach. This is about what happened after.

I am planning to go to that Reggae Show I’ve told you about tonight, even though I swore I would not go unless I got a free pass. Well, it turns out the free pass opportunity did just that – passed me freely. (It is hard for me to ask for favours, and I’d like to consider that one of my best qualities.)

I left the beach in a state of weakness, though, and during the ride home I wondered how I would be able to stand up for the next 6-8 hours watching and listening to Keri Hilson and Ne-yo perform. (I know they are not reggae artistes but I assume that is why they call it “International Night.”) I also wondered how much worse I would feel after missing out on tonight’s sleep and still going to the beach tomorrow – no I do not miss a day. Moral of the story? I figured I’d come home, drink some Orange Juice – Vitamin C – and take something for my sinus.

Well, the reason I write today, is to brag tell you about my wonderful father – from one dedication to the next. When I got here, he was not home – he had gone to the supermarket to pick up a few things. But, alas, food was prepared and on the stove – curried shrimp to be precise. There was no rice, though, and I was a little discouraged; but when I looked in the toaster I happened upon some diced red potatoes in a cute little dish.

Dinner was delicious, and by the time I was done eating, Pops was here with bags and bags of groceries, and the orange juice that I had forgotten to ask him for. (I guess he read my mind.) For me, being restocked on food is like opening gifts on Christmas morning, a new venture of which to indulge. What’s more? It is always better if it is not your investment, but you still get to reap the benefits.

Anyway, I am a lucky girl, don’t you think? My parents are the best. Two separate worlds of awesome!

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