Usually when I make very deliberate plans for a special outing, I have this image in my head of how perfect it’s going to be and how it’s going to make a memory I’ll never forget. Like..the day I stop talking about taking Desmond to the zoo and actually take him. Or the day I actually plan the camping trip we go on and have amazing family bonding around the fire while Desmond probably eats dirt and gets a lot of mosquito bites. These things are usually much more dreamy in my head, but this weekend I got lucky. Desmond and I had a perfect outing to the beach at Rocky River Park. After a smooth breakfast and packing up to leave (yes, those are both things that can go very very unsmoothly) we headed out nice and early. You best believe I smugly grabbed that pail and shovel set I scored in the Target dollar bin (why does it feel like a victory every time I actually use something I buy from those bins? It’s like, ha-ha, jokes on you Target). Around 8am is the magical hour. The sun is just peaking up over the trees, the lake is like glass and the beach is empty except for the occasional Granola with a really smell dog. I’m only sorta kidding you guys. I drive a Subaru now so I can make jokes like that. After a few minutes of disorientation while sitting frozen on the towel, Desmond began exploring. Charging right into the water, running around the sand, climbing the driftwood. I just kept thinking…this…this is a childhood summer morning. Oh don’t get me wrong, Desmond still ate sand. But this was definitely a morning for the books.