Our first fall in Carolina, while we were renting a home on one island and trying to determine which of the islands in the Carolinas to settle on more permanently, we took a series of day and overnight trips to different islands, gathering relocation information.
One weekend early on, we scored a hotel deal on Hotwire and took a trip to one of the islands on our short list. After dinner the first night, we went to a nearby public beach, where LCB took our older son swimming while I sat in the sand with our younger son, who was about two months old at the time. It was hot and the beach was crowded, so eventually I stood up with the baby and began walking with my feet in the water’s edge. I was struck by how calm the waves were compared to the ones I’d seen on our “rental island.†Noting the shore’s gradual slope as well, I began to venture out further.
By further, I mean the water was now up to my lower calves.
As usual when I tell these tales, I really don’t know exactly what happened, but I like to think it was an ill-timed rogue wave that crept up suddenly on me, sending me, before I could stop it, straight on my derriere. As I fell, I held my son closely to ensure the water wouldn’t get near his face. It didn’t; in fact, he had little reaction to the whole thing, even after we sat submerged in what was maybe eight inches of the Atlantic.
The fact that no one else around me seemed moved by the rogue wave is beside the point.
I, on the other hand, was suddenly faced with a dilemna. In front of a great cloud of witnesses, I had just been knocked over by a ripple, and frankly, I just didn’t want to concede this point.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, I was fully dressed, sitting there in the water. I don’t remember why LCB and my older son had swimsuits on and why I did not, but there you have it.
(Okay, if you must know, I was wearing a blouse and a skirt. Even from a distance, they looked nothing like any swimwear I’ve ever seen.)
(I’m good that way.)
Thinking fast, I decided to do the only thing that made sense at the moment: I took the cool, detached approach. This means I continued to sit there for quite some time, hoping that I was giving the impression that I had fully intended to sit down quite suddenly in the water, despite being completely dressed. You know, like I was so overcome by the beauty of the Atlantic that lovely fall evening that I just had to…well…baptize myself in it, right then and there.
If anything, I told myself, I didn’t fall; I gave in to the allure of my surroundings. And, perhaps no one would notice that I was fully clothed anyway if I just sat quietly.
(Quick tip here: Delusions are best maintained if you avoid eye contact with those around you, lest their expressions remind you of your own idiocy. It’s this thing I’ve learned.)
In the end, however, perhaps my approach was wise; I imagine my submersion caught quite a few eyes, and eventually, we moved to that very island. Many of the people on the beach that night were surely residents, so it’s possible that future friends, neighbors, and/or cashiers at my favorite grocery store were spectators that night.
Too bad I had to go and spoil my secret by posting it on some blog.