Finn, Commander in Chief, Shell-Finding Expedition

This year Finn is interested in finding seashells.  Actually he wants to find starfish, too, like Grandma has in a glass jar in her bathroom back in Schaumburg, but today he was contentedly set on a shelling mission.  And, it turns out, in his mind, shelling is a competitive sport.  He and Grandma were one team, with a large orange bucket. Finn designated Jason and my dad as another team with a small green bucket.  Wylie and I were the third team with a very small red bucket.

Our mission was well orchestrated, by the four-year-old, as we brought with us two essential items:  a kite--flying in the air--and a chair, which Finn carried (until he passed it off to Grandma), in case he "needed a rest."  And we set off down the beach, picking up shells and putting them in our buckets, slowly deducing the willy-nilly rules of Finn's Shell-Finding Expedition.  Big shells were best, but colorful ones did garner some attention and/or possibly points.  Any sort of seaweed, coral, sticks, or other beach debris (as my Dad frequently tried to introduce) was strictly forbidden and were to be thrown straight into the water.

We paused, at one point during our expedition, to dig holes.  Random holes that may or may not lead to China.  In the end, Finn disregarded the shells and took up a new digging project, but overall was beyond happy to be hanging out on the beach!