Goll Dang Tourists

By "Goll Dang Tourists," I mean my mother. That's right, she's guilty of the most toursty of tourist sins: feeding the Wing-ed Rats. Some call them seagulls, most have a more colorful term. Since this is a family show, I'll shorten it to WRs. After a delightful lunch of Burrito Union (think a poor man's Chipotle) on the beach, we have some chips left. My lovely mother has the brilliant idea to feed the WRs. The moment she says it, Kylie catches her fire. Of course that's a brilliant idea, Grandma! What else would we do with these chips?? At the same moment, a dark cloud covers Jo's face. Goll dang tourist, and she's my mother in law, no less! What is this world coming to??  At the start of the suggestion there is exactly one WR within sight; up the beach, down the beach: one. Within seconds of the first chip hitting the ground, it's a swarm! The pictures don't do it justice, as they are circling our heads, and I'm protecting my eyes from being pecked out by the blankity blank WRs.

And this is just a delightfully awful picture of my family (minus Jo, taking the picture).