NATS & TOTS
A TRUE BEACH SHORT
by
Lee Carey
_____
Copyright © 2011 by Lee Carey
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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NATS & TOTS
NAT: Newly Arrived Tourist. Nickname given to tourists arriving Saturday afternoon and ending late Wednesday night.
TOT: Tired Old Tourist. Nickname for the same tourist after a mysterious transformation at 12:01 Thursday morning, lasting until their departure. TOTs never comprehend what has afflicted them.
(Definitions provided by: Lee’s Sandbridge Observer Dictionary 1st Edition)
* * * * *
Sandbridgers do enjoy their summer guests. Tourists bring a cheerful attitude, a zest for the ocean and the beach, blended with a daily aura of youthfulness.
We catch the excitement of the tourists and awaken from winter hibernation and observe kids running and squealing as they plunge into the waves, ride boogie boards, and bob over the swells. Along with this, our favorite signs of summer are spotting the first sandfiddler, purple martins, dolphins, and hummingbirds. For us…summer has now officially arrived – bringing Memorial Day – July the Fourth – Labor Day, and all of the sunny beach days in between. Sandbridge is a fantastic place to live and vacation.
So after sixteen years of viewing the arrival and daily activities of tourists, I coined the aforementioned nicknames and definitions. Many locals have also witnessed what initiated my conception of NATs and TOTs. So, here we go.
Saturday: After driving around lost, for five to fifteen minutes, they finally locate their rented cottage. Doors fly open; parents and kids quickly emerge from the packed minivan as if a skunk had discharged its perfume. After a grueling eight to ten-hour drive, everyone suddenly acquires happy hands and quick feet. In a jiffy, luggage, pillows, and water toys are stashed safely inside and under the cottage. Within minutes, giddy kids sporting new bathing suits hit the coastline, dragging brightly colored boogie boards and rafts. Their giggles and squeals penetrate the humid summer afternoon. Parents hurry down, hand in hand, watching their energized children splashing in the Atlantic. The happy wife gives her proud husband a kiss. “I’m so glad we chose Sandbridge, honey.”
“Me, too, sweetheart. Let’s have pizza delivered tonight.”
“Great. The kids will love that.”
Sunday Morning: At ten o’clock, caravans of adults, teens, and kids fill the accesses in a mad race to set up their camp on the beach. Chairs, bright umbrellas, multi-colored towels, and coolers quickly dot the shoreline. The blue sky quickly fills with strange-shaped kites, Frisbees, and footballs.
As the hot sun blazes, the ocean hosts NATs of all sizes and ages trying to stay cool. Mothers constantly plaster their kids with fragrant suntan lotion. The kids squirm free like eels and return to the waves to boogie board and body surf.
Dad relaxes while soaking up coastal rays. Mom begins reading a 500-page romance novel, keeping one eye glued on her children. As Dad snores, Mom finishes Chapter One. Later, the kids rush up, salting Dad with sand. “I’d love to live down here!” announces Timmy.
“Mom, I’m hungry,” adds Susie.
“Okie-dokey. We have PB&J, Doritos, and Cokes. Wash off your hands while Dad gets our lunch from the cooler.”
Thirty minutes later, plus time for another layer of lotion, the kids dive back into the water. The wife says, “Henry, I think you should put on some lotion.”
With a shake of his head, he smiles. “Naw, I’m fine. I’ve got a good base, dear.”
“Alright, but you’re looking a little pink.”
As four o’clock approaches, the kids are pooped and ready to return to the cottage. So, Dad gladly packs up and the NAT caravan is cottage-bound.
Monday: Identical to Sunday, except, Dad now sports a blood-red sunburn. He’s coated with lotion and aloe. The kids’ energy level remains high. Mom begins Chapter Two. Dad enjoys a cold adult beverage, in a cup, and ogles the never-ending parade of bikinis.
Tuesday: It’s eleven o’clock before the NATs swarm the beach. Kites have lost their appeal or have disappeared. Frisbees have greatly diminished in number. Mom prepares lunch inside the cottage. She desires much-needed quiet time. Following her delivery of lunch to the beach, she returns. Dad now has the job of being the lifeguard.
Wednesday: The metamorphis from NAT to TOT is slowly beginning, much like early cold symptoms. However, NATs remain totally unaware of this phenomenon. The kids’ energy level drops a notch. Mom finishes Chapter Four. Dad swills several adult beverages. At one o’clock, they pack up and hit the cottage for lunch…they do not return in the afternoon.
Thursday: Congratulations! NATs, you are officially TOTs. Here’s the verification: Mom leads the kids to the beach around eleven. Dad drags himself down two hours later, hugging a small cooler. His body is now peeling like an onion. He hears his children fussing and whining even before plopping into his chair. He hollers, “Kids, get in the water and play! I ain’t putting up with your fighting and yelling.”
“Timmy’s throwing sand at me,” cries Susie.
Mom begins Chapter Six. Dad shakes his head, opens another icy-cold adult beverage and says, “Timmy, get your boogie board. The waves are perfect.”
“It’s at the cottage. I’m tired of it.”
Dad moans and takes a long swig. “I work hours of overtime to pay for this vacation…and you’re tired. Well, I ain’t having it. Get in that ocean, now! And, dang it, have fun.”
“Mom, I don’t wanna. I saw a big crab.”
Without looking up, Mom replies, “Susie, you heard Dad.”
At two o’clock, the TOTs are packed up and trudging through blistering hot sand to the cottage. Timmy whines, “Can we order pizzas and rent videos?”
“No, we can’t! We’ve got leftovers and cable TV,” growled their Dad.
Friday: Not sure what they do, but they do not visit the coastline. Maybe they finally talked Dad into pizza and videos. Probably so…it’s a TOT favorite.
Saturday: Checkout Day: Ten o’clock. Dad begins loading the minivan at eight…alone. Mom packs – Dad totes. He hollers for assistance – no child shows. He’s totally forgotten how he packed everything in nice and neat. So…he crams and kicks…finally, it fits.
At ten o’clock, Mom places the camera on the hood of the van, sets it on ‘auto’ and the family of TOTs pose on the cottage steps and smile. Photo session over – they quietly pile into the van and, away they go.
I smile and wave. “God love ya. See ya next year.”
All comments and reviews are appreciated.
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