The beach is my favourite place in the world. Not that that’s anything out of the ordinary – I’m pretty sure there’s not one person alive who doesn’t feel the same way. Well, maybe there are a few, but they’re not the kind of people I’d associate with. You’d have to be a major curmudgeon to have anything bad to say about the beach!
I’m a bit disappointed that Jock can’t come with me and the kids on Friday. Mostly, I’m disappointed for him. After all, he probably hasn’t been to the beach for months, and now he’s missing the chance to go there on a date with me, no less. I realise that some people might not count an outing with kids in tow as a proper date, but I’m afraid that’s just the way it is with me. If anyone has a problem with that, they probably fall into the curmudgeon basket too.
Anyway, it’s a shame about Jock not being able to come, and all because he has to take his car for a log book service. Near Adelaide, apparently, the traffic has been pretty crazy, so it wouldn’t cut the beach time too short to get his car to the mechanics in the morning and pick it up in the evening. I do appreciate the thoughtfulness; it’s true that the kids are going to want as much time at the beach as possible, and obviously I do as well.
Still, I feel bad for Jock having to miss out. He didn’t seem too bothered, but that’s probably just him not wanting to make me feel guilty. I must admit, it’s a little weird because he initially said he needed a brake pad replacement, and then the next day he said it was a car water pump repair. Now, apparently, it’s a log book service, which is why it’s going to take all day… should I be suspicious?
I don’t think so. I can’t imagine why anyone would lie to get out of going to the beach. Unless… could it be that he doesn’t want to go to the beach with me? I have some sleuthing to do, it seems.