It was a lazy morning at a very calm beach. Eldest is doing his beach thing of not going in the water and opting to sit under a shady palm and serve as sentinel over our belongings. Youngest is doing his brat thing of complaining about the lack of waves so he, too, is on shore. Daughter is playing in the water. Pete is snorkeling near the reef. I am on the mat, propelling myself away from shore.
I spy something floating in the water. Is it some kind of seaweed? Is it a stick? Is it a sea turtle?
I propel myself toward it for a closer look.
Wait a minute! What the hell is that? It can't be. Gross! Gross!
I scream in my head and work feverishly to get turned around, not wanting to get anywhere near the four pieces of...
Four pieces of...
Of the human variety.
Floating in a v-shaped pattern, making its way to shore and the other unsuspecting beach-goers.
Is this something one tells the lifeguard?
Is this something to further investigate?
Is this something to make one look at the two possible culprits who were in the area and make assumptions, a la the House episode, that it couldn't possibly have come from the older thin, vegan-looking woman; however, that heavy-set, fat-eating man with the smirk on his face as he makes eye contact with me clearly looks guilty?
Who does this kind of thing? Who poops in the ocean? I mean, besides the obvious creatures that live in it.
No shit, this is totally true. [Pun intended.]