I Have a Biter

I came home from the Cold House to wash the salt from my skin and of course, to make a grocery stop and a Home Depot run. Even though I am only home for a day, I decided to ease my Dad's pain and make a blog post. His withdrawal symptoms have been fierce. This is for you Pooh!

Yes, we catch crabs! Lots and lots of crabs. Rest assured, we let them live. Do you see the faded red bucket? That bucket goes on every single beach trip and it serves as a home for our found crabs. We find itty-bitty crabs that are smaller than your pinkie finger fingernail and we find crabs that Beckett calls, “Biters!” I crack up every single time he yells, “I have a biter, a biter, Mommy a biter.” Sometimes I have to extract the biters from Beck’s finger. "Tank you, Mommy, Tank you."

Rule:
Take the time to make someone smile!