I'm covered.

Or so I thought.

An outing with my family and my sister's family to Ocean City yesterday was a lot of fun.  It was a blast for the three kids from each family to go crazy on the boogie boards and buckets with shovels.

Only one boogie was broken.  (Much to the chagrin of my brother-in-law who took one for the team right in the gut as a wave slammed him like a rag doll in the surf and broke his son's brand new boogie board.)

Only one pail was swept out to sea.  (Much to the horror of my 3 year-old niece who watched the mean wave come up to her and grab her brand new pail and run back out to see while she played in the sand with her mom.)

My brother-in-law and I tried to change in to our bathing suits in the public restroom at the beach.  A seemingly logical and innocent endeavor.

Until the bathroom police stopped us cold.  (Someone actually gets paid to sit in a folding chair with a clip board and chastise innocent bathroom goers...)

It appears that changing into your bathing suit in a public restroom at the beach in Ocean City is "against the law."

We were told to change in our hotel or in our car.  No, we didn't read the sign above the door on the way into the bathroom.  No we didn't have a hotel room.  We had just driven the 2.75 hours from our house. Yes, we could have taken turns in the back seat of the mini-vans.

A strategic towl on the beach with hundrends of on-lookers turned out to be much more fun.

And much more challenging.

Yet, I was good.  I stayed covered.  Lest a full pastoral moon come out.

At the same time, I neglected one important beach detail.

Any part of exposed skin that I do not want fried, needs to have 372 SPF applied in great liberation and zeal.

I somehow did not smear the greasy protective goodness that costs too much and feels like sand paper when there is one speck of sand on my hand on my entire midsection, lower back and feet.

And today, my feet, tummy and back are swollen along with the second degree burns that scream at me when I'm driving the 5-speed General Ki.

I thought I was covered.

I wasn't.

And today, I'm paying for it.  (My swolen burnt feet are soaking in water and oatmeal at this very moment ...)

At least my boogie wasn't broken...