All the days are blending together into one happy, joyful adventure.
My kid is zonked next to me, sleeping hard after today’s fun.
We swam together in the ocean, laughing and bobbing in the waves, until dark.
We walked barefoot back to the house, still giggling, past shops that are starting to become familiar on the main sidewalk, past Rasta Joe who has dreds and a curious dredded ball on his chin, like a hacky sack got stuck in there or something. (later he showed me it’s one long dred, he has grown it for 15 yrs, and he wraps it up like a bun)
Rasta Joe smiles big and says, “Aah! So dare is da girl with dat beautiful smile!” And we smile bigger of course.
We go change, and head back again, to the barefoot music bar… it is Wednesday night, and Calvin and Rasta Carl are drumming tonight, Garifuna music. Calvin hugged us when he saw us tonight, and gave S. the brotherly Creole/Garifuna/Caribbean handshake knuckle bump.
The band had two drummers, and maybe eight others singing and dancing, all in matching costumes. They ranged in ages, and maybe were a couple of families, with moms and children?
I drank a fuzzy navel- wow too strong! S had his first ever Fanta orange soda. We ate spicy Jamaican jerk fish tacos, in the Caribbean breeze, listening to the waves and strange local music.
We wandered back to the little house, put on jammies, laid in our hammocks, and giggled some more. Our forever nighttime tradition- “What was your favorite part of the day?”
My heart is full, my tummy hurts from laughing all day (again). I’m covered in sand-fly bites, I itch from head to toe, I wiggle my sandy toes, and smile back at him, from my hammock swinging right below his.
I agree. Everything was my favorite today too.