I think there hasn't been a single summer that hasn't gone to the beach for at least a couple of days. Most of my summer memories go between the beach and the pool. He had a friend who had never been to a beach, we were from the interior and the beach was not something that was close to our lives, but he still did not understand how his parents had never taken him to the beach.
For me, the beach was that magical place that smelled so strange and where I could finally enjoy my parents, both of us, from morning to night. But today I want to share the not-so-pleasant memories, though, from love and humor, from those wonderful years: the beach.
Unbearable situations: the moments before the bath
I remember when I was little, that for me there were two unbearable situations when it came to spending the day at the beach: the moments before the bath and the nap. Don't ask me which one was more hateful and unbearable of the two because I wouldn't know what to answer.
As soon as you reached the area where your parents decided to mount the camp, while your father became a carabinero trying to drive the mast of the umbrella, your mother, not knowing how she was already prepared with the sun cream canister in her hand and holding you so that You wouldn't go straight to the water. And look that you had been trying to hide it in the bottom of the beach bag.
I remember that one year we were carrying a bag that had a broken pocket and if you put something in it, it would slip into the bottom of the bag, between the outer and inner layer. Well, there we put the cream (those ideas that can only happen to two brothers when they park their differences for a common good) and it did the same, my mother in a couple of minutes had taken it out and there it was, standing , with a stick of cream in one hand while with the other I indicated the point where you should stay during the operation "embadurne 1.0".
And your mother gave you that cream, or paste, that cost her own to extend and of course, as it cost so much your mother was pushing harder and harder to spread it and prevent you from looking like an aborigine on holiday and you who of that did not you had the body to endure their strokes, which as a professor Miyagui "dal sela, quital sela", made you go step by step towards the shore, of course by pure chance, and your mother was pissed off because you moved from the shadow point where She had told you that you had to stay.
And it is that the mothers of before already knew that in those six minutes of sun without protection, that they were the ones that it took to spread which Christmas turkey, from top to bottom, could give you a sunstroke or something worse. I don't know, maybe I would be afraid that you would burn so much and that they would not be able to distinguish you from the seller of pipaschiclescaramelosnaranjahelaaaaada. Once the "embadurne moment" was over, you passed the phase, "don't move that you fill with sand" Y "don't get in the water the cream is going", the classic hits of my summers in the 80's. And you were wondering, we've been on the beach for an hour and I still haven't been able to get out of the towel, What have we come for?
And there you were, three meters from the shore and unable to enter because you had to wait for that layer of butter that you had put on. I was sure that my mother was doing it so that my father could read the quiet newspaper, at least the national news section, I never told him so that the poor man would not be displeased, don't believe it. Of course, one would take revenge asking every ten seconds, "Can I get in now? And now? Is it time? You told me the same thing a long time ago. (" While, "famous unit of time measurement by that time)
But, such a string of questions could not remain so, unpunished and that was when your mother put her hand in that beach bag where the contents of three grocery stores were stored and pulled out ... ONE HAT! Horror, everything was already lost, because at that time, there were no like 300 different types of caps, no. Before there were two types of caps, the ugly ones and the ones that were huge. Then there were the blues of Nivea that came as a gift with the suntan cream, but that always remained my mother. You can get an idea of how the rest of the caps should be if Nivea's seemed the most fashionable of the summer.
In short: there you were, sitting on the towel, looking at the sea while everyone laughed and enjoyed breaking the waves and you watched them wondering why your mother could not be like the mother of your towel neighbor.
What always surprised me is that they never did a summer song about it or a cartoon series. Of course, there was a script, I have no doubt about that, considering how slow time went by until your mother kicked off and you could get into the water, we could have recorded an entire season of "Oliver and Benji in the beach, "because I swear it took the same time to make a move as I did to get into the water.
And talking about getting into the water; After taking more than half an hour to the sun, (remember: take things out of the car, look for a place, place the camp, spread cream, wait for it to be absorbed), we find an increase in body temperature of about 300 degrees that getting into the water was an act of faith and self-control so as not to release the string of tacos that you heard your whole family say.
