My kids like to boogie board. We are too poor and uncoordinated to surf and too high-class to just sit in the mud that the tide drags in and make gutteral sounds with our uvulas. I don't know who does that in real life, but it's not us. So we got some pretty sweet boogie boards. Two of them say "Boogie Board" on them in cool, stylized fonts that would've looked neat in 1988, and a third has a dolphin on it, like the kind that would be on a t-shirt that they sell at a New Age-y store at the mall. And we boogie board with those.
I guess the ocean is a bit dicey here in El Salvador. But, you know, everyone has to deal with undertow every once in awhile, that's my motto. It helps me get through the tough times, that and sniffing sugar cubes. So I let my kids boogie board in the shallow water. And they really like it, which makes me feel all nostalgic, because I used to like to boogie board when I was younger too.
But it was different back then. Harder. We were just hardier people back then, what can I say. We wore wetsuits and booties to boogie board in Oregon's Pacific Ocean on Memorial Day, and even then you could only last for 20 minutes before your brain got numb. But we just kept on boogie boarding, because what lasting harm can a lack of blood to your brain really do? I have graduating high school perfectliest gooded. My kids are lucky to come from such an extinguished pedicure.