Sand butt

So, I experienced a memorable embarrassing moment while in Miami. We stayed two nights on the fabulous Miami Beach. Max loved playing in the sand and jumping the waves. He and Dean were playing in the water while I took a rest, lounging in the sand. The waves would come up to my waist and then pull back again. It was extremely relaxing.

After awhile, I thought I should check the time, so I got up to go get my watch. There were two young guys sitting on lounges right by ours, and I was already feeling terribly glam in my maternity suit among all the bikini clad girls, so I hussled up the beach toward our stuff. But as soon as I stood up, I felt something odd in my rear end section. A quick pat to the region revealed the truth: Yes, it seems that while I was sitting, the waves were loading about a pound of sand into the butt of my swim suit. I turned and ran into the water, but it seemed to take forever to get deep enough to hide, and meanwhile the entire beach had a lovely view of my swimsuit butt heavy and hanging down. I'm sure it looked like I pooed my pants.

Dean showed proper sympathy for my predicament by liberally laughing at me.