Moon did not want to get out of bed this morning. She wasn’t any more motivated when we told her our destination for the day was the beach at Coronado Island. But being the good sport she is, she finally showered and dressed. Her sunburned nose and cheeks were blistered and oozing clear yellowish liquid. By no means was she planning to go near the water. Pete and Peter packed up their towels and swimsuits because they knew they wouldn’t be able to resist the waves. I’m a wader, so I wore a t-shirt with swim shorts.

We walked to the Broadway pier, where the ferry leaves for Coronado Island on the hour. After we docked, we walked toward the beach. It was a much longer walk than it appeared to be on the little map we’d picked up. Peter was complaining big time. We stopped for pizza at Alexander’s (Coronado’s best pizza!) and started looking for a place to buy sunscreen. Finally we entered a surf shop, where a cute surfer boy named Ryan sold us sunscreen, after-sun lotion (refrigerated!) and a pair of Crocs each for me and Peter. (Peter’s mood improved dramatically after that. His feet had been hurting.)

The beach was only a few more blocks away. Moon curled up on a bath towel (borrowed from the hotel) wearing her black t-shirt and jeans. Peter immediately headed for the water and Pete followed. I wandered in a few inches of surf and succumbed to the adventure of beachcombing. Looking for treasures of the sea was completely addicting. I spotted a woman walking by with a few sand dollars, and I wanted one like you wouldn’t believe. When a little girl a few feet away plucked one from the sand and yelled, “Daddy! A sand dollar!” I felt robbed… that was my sand dollar, dammit.

But by the time we left, I had four sand dollars in my hot little hands. Unfortunately, the ocean demanded an offering in return.

Peter joyfully ducked under the waves…and surfaced without his retainer. My beachcombing took a more serious twist. News of the loss spread to the point where strangers were stopping to ask me if I’d had any luck. “I have sand dollars,” I answered.

Maybe someone will pick it up, see the unusual last name embedded in the plastic, do an internet search, and find us.