Beach Day Shenanigans with Mitchell
The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, casting a golden glow across the sandy shores, when we rolled up with Mitchell, our oversized special needs toddler. Mitchell was a wild card—three years old with the determination of a kid twice his age and the clumsiness of someone who had just learned to walk yesterday. Today, we were on a mission to give him a kickass day at the beach, from sun up to sun down, while juggling his antics and our own summer break madness.
"Hey, little man, ready for some fun?" I asked, hoisting Mitchell, who already had that mischievous grin plastered across his face. He thought he was invincible, this kid, and honestly, who were we to burst his bubble? With sand in his curls and a diaper already threatening to sag, he was unstoppable.
Our first task: introduce Mitchell to the mini fort we had set up. My bros—Trent and Kyle—stood by, chuckling as Mitchell's eyes widened at the sight of the intricately crafted sandcastle. Mitchell, of course, decided crawling was the way to go, dragging his dirty pamper and shirt through the sand like a pint-sized bulldozer.
"Come on, you can do it, big guy!" Trent cheered, encouraging Mitchell to make his way to the fort. Mitchell's excitement was palpable, and he bulldozed his way through, his laughter mixing with the crashing waves.
As the day wore on, the beach filled with more kids, and we managed to coax Mitchell into playing with some other three-year-olds. He was in heaven, trying to keep up with the "big boys," though his loaded pamper occasionally slowed him down. But nothing could dampen his spirits—not even the stench that followed him around like a loyal companion.
When the sun began to dip, casting long shadows across the sand, Mitchell toddled over to us, his big eyes full of excitement. "Play game with us?" he asked, his voice a mixture of innocence and determination.
Alright, here’s where things got a bit… unorthodox. Maybe it was the hours of sun or just the college jock mentality kicking in, but Trent, Kyle, and I exchanged a glance—a silent agreement that whatever happened next would be one for the books.
"Sure thing, Mitch," Kyle said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. We formed a circle around Mitchell, who was blissfully unaware of our intentions. On the count of three, we let out synchronized farts, right in his face.
Mitchell's reaction was priceless—eyes wide, mouth open in a mix of horror and confusion. But then, something incredible happened. He burst into laughter, a hearty, infectious giggle that left us all rolling in the sand, tears streaming down our faces.
As the day closed and we packed up to leave, Mitchell waved goodbye to the beach, still buzzing with the day's excitement. He was the first to fall asleep in the car, a content smile playing on his lips, and I couldn't help but wonder what kind of dreams he was having after a day like that.
Driving back, I glanced at Kyle and Trent. "Next time," I said, "we should probably have a better plan."
Trent nodded, but the glint in his eye told me this was just the beginning of our summer adventures. And as for Mitchell, well, he had more than earned his place as our honorary fourth bro, dirty pamper and all.
What kind of games would we play next time? Now, that was a mystery worth pondering.