The Beach Caper

I wish I could say that this video needs no explanation, but that would be a lie. And I'm not as good a liar as I used to be. So here you go:

Yesterday my siblings and I went to the beach. It was a really beautiful day, sunny and bright, about 60 degrees. Not quite swimming weather, but beautiful nonetheless. We had our shoes off; the sand was warm on the surface, but cold and damp a few inches down. Absolutely fantastic.

Emil, for some reason, had insane amounts of sporting equipment in the trunk of his car: a tennis racket, several tennis balls, one or two ice skates, a few hurleys, and a sliotar (pronounced "shlitter," the ball used in the sport of hurling. I know. It all rules, right?). He wanted to hit the ball back and forth, but Sara had other ideas.

"I'll give you a dollar if you go in the lake," she says to me. I hesitate. There's not much I'll do for just a dollar anymore - you see, I'm a classy lady now. Plus, that water was going to be freezing! "I'll make it two," she says. I decline. She finally ups it to four whole dollars, which I consider for a moment.

"Wait, I don't want money, I want something...like an actual thing, or action," I say decidedly.

"Okay, I'll dye your hair for you," she compromises. This sounds good to me, even though she'd already said she would dye my hair this weekend. But this way I'm earning it, see?

Of course, with any challenge or bet, the stakes rose quickly. Sara decided that, besides just going in the lake, I had to pick up this piece of driftwood that was about two feet in and bring it back to her. That sounded just fine to me. Then Emil decided that I had to take a tennis ball with me and, after picking up the driftwood, hit the tennis ball back to them using the driftwood like a baseball bat. Not to be one to back down from a hilarious challenge with ultimate results, I accepted.

And that's how The Beach Caper happened. Enjoy!

P.S. You should pay attention to the brilliant commentary.