We arrived in Florida at the beginning of the Martin Luther King weekend, so instead of joining the millions at the Park, we rented a car and drove out to Clearwater Beach. Let me just say again, that if you've never been on Florida beach sand, you should put that on your Bucket List. It's like walking on perfectly white baby powder. We walked in the water and out on the pier and took some pictures with a quaint turtle statue.
Then it happened. With perfect airborne precision, worthy of the RAF, a seagull bombed me on the head. Not a small bomb, but a Big Bomb. Panic ensued. Not my panic, but everyone else's. Bruce freaked out. Kristen started gagging. Wade just continued to take pictures. Napkins were found and we tried to clean things up as best we could, but then we ended up going to a gift shop bathroom to try some repair work.
As a complete side note, my hair color is looking pretty good these days, don't ya think? If you disregard that big piece of bird poop in my hair.
I sat in the very back seat of the mini van on the way home. Ah, Clearwater Beach, the memories you will always bring to mind...