I declare myself the sandcastle superintendent

I went to the Big Sister Summer Picnic the other day. It was at a beautiful camp on the beach. There was a pool, a huge grassy field and a beach overlooking the Boston skyline. It would be a nice place to relax, but there was no time for that. Sandcastles do NOT build themselves.

I’m amazed at the size of the sand toys. They look like my old sand toys on steroids. There’s a bucket so huge that when filled with water I can’t lift it. A bunch of little sisters decide to fill it with rocks AND water. I try to help carry it. They frown with dismay when I mention pouring some of the water out. This sandcastle building business is serious.

I stick to making castles. I’m confident I can do this. Then I help with the moat. One of the girls orders,

“Deeper. You need to dig deeper.”

I’m digging and hauling and building. It’s 10am on a Saturday morning and I’m covered in sweat. I sit down. The little sisters continue to work hard. The girl who was monitoring my moat digging saunters up to me,

“Are you going to help or what?”

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