It's all fun and games...

...until someone gets hurt. On Saturday, we ventured off to go watch Chris do what he does best: surf. We were all very excited to go:

and then, the surfing Gods gave me one more good reason to hate surfing:

I was innocently lying on the beach, chillin with our homies. Out of no where, I felt like someone had just walked up to me, and hit me in the head with a baseball bat. I blacked out for just a little bit, and when I realized that I was still alive (can you sense maybe just a LITTLE bit of high drama??), I sat up really quick and put my hand to my head. My homies (that I was chillin with, remember?) asked if I was ok. I thought, "Holy mother of Pearl, that hurt! Why did someone hit me in the head with a baseball bat?", but what I really said was, "Oh my gosh. Ya. That realy hurt..." Then, I looked over and realized--- almost at the exact same time that I realized my hand was covered in blood--- that it was an evil SURF BOARD that hit me in my head.

I know it's nothing extreme, or life threatening, but still a stupid board split my head open!! And the worse part is, I WASN'T EVEN IN THE WATER. Humph. I got up really quick and said, "...I'll be right back..."

Chris had just took J with him over to the car to find something, and I started running to find him because I was just sure that my life has hanging by threads now, and I was for sure a gone-er. By the time I got to Chris, I was in hysterics "Chhhhhhrrrrrriiiiiiiissssssss!" I muttered out. I think I had said it about 400 times before he could actually hear me, but by the time he heard my, I just might have been screaming. ha ha

So, he turns to me and asks "What happened!!??" as he can see me freaking out, blood pouring from my head.

I said, between sobs, "I got hit in the head with a surf board!" and for a split instant second, I actually think I saw his eyes shoot fire works---the kind an oh-so-proud-husband would do, which confused me.

He replied with, "You went surfing!!!?" Really excited and proud. It was more of a statement then a question. That just added fuel to the fire, as if the surfing gods had done this on purpose to me, and there my husband stood, all excited about the prospect that his beloved wife actually attempted to surf.

"NO! Of course not!!" and then he looked REALLY confused.

I explained it all to him, and to make a long story short(er), all is well. I am not a surfer, and never will be.

PEOPLE! I WAS SITTING ON THE BEACH AND THE WIND BLEW A SURF BOARD INTO MY HEAD, SPLITTLING IT OPEN.

All I have to say is Surfing: this means war!

PS Please notice my pouty face in the last picture. Thank you.