This morning SB went for a morning stroll in Poi O with cousin Shoils (no biological relationship but they are quite the pair). He came home with a large, stinking backpack full of seashells, which he proceeded to wash out in our bathroom sink. Because he is who he is, the shells are clean now but the bathroom counter and floor are filthy. He happily told me that he was planning to make me a necklace out of the shells. He was delighted to show me how the shells already had little holes due to some evil sea snail that bores holes to eat the defenseless creatures inside.
Later I heard him phone Shoils to advise her to wash out her booty of shells right away because of how nasty they smelled. Perhaps Shoils is making a matching necklace for her husband. Steve and I can rock some faux Polynesian looks. I guess I should be happy that all SB brought home were shells, sand and muck. Previously he returned from a walk with Shoils with sea urchin spines embedded in his foot. He whined for the month it took for the spines to work their way out.
Later I heard him phone Shoils to advise her to wash out her booty of shells right away because of how nasty they smelled. Perhaps Shoils is making a matching necklace for her husband. Steve and I can rock some faux Polynesian looks. I guess I should be happy that all SB brought home were shells, sand and muck. Previously he returned from a walk with Shoils with sea urchin spines embedded in his foot. He whined for the month it took for the spines to work their way out.
Er, thanks? I'm sure they will look great draped around my neck.
Shoils and SB; photo by Shoils.
Don't ask; I have no idea. Photo by Shoils.
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