Whiter than white.

I feel my California experience may be almost complete. I need only an uber-bod and a non-bottle suntan and I'll be able to return to dear old Blighty fulfilled. (It may take some time for that bod to appear though). Following on from the earthquake non-incident, the following unfolded this week.

Background: February I was ruthlessly bullied into parting with a substantial bunch of cash for dad 'n' daughter matching wetsuits. They wore me down in the surf shop when we went to hire suits yet again, for another Sunday of boogie-boarding. Truth is I like going to the surf shop. I like the charming young surf chaps who work there. (uhuhu). But I relented. Needless to say, I now throw them out to the beach every chance I get to make them justify the cost. Not that I hear many complaints - its not like sending them for a wander up Kelvingrove Park in the rain after all.

Anyway, this Sunday, off they scampered as a reward for getting through 19 pages of math homework. I got to stay home and fill out some tax forms. Fun. When I opened the door to them a couple of hours later, I was faced with two whiter than white slightly shifty looking articles. Oh ho thinks I - what happened? Now obviously I'm suspecting that Dad was so busy having fun in the surf he forgot to mind small girl properly. But no, turns out he was being super responsible (as he should). While surfing they meet a little sea-lion bobbing up and down watching them. Quite a common occurence here for the curious young uns to come close for a nosy. So dad is watching the sea-lion and as he does is thinking about the dead 4-foot leopard shark we'd found on a neighbouring beach a couple of days before. The thought occurs to him - it must have been a bigger shark that got it. Link. I wonder should I be concerned about the proximity of that baby seal attracting predators? Bang on cue two black fins rise on either side behind the seal criss-crossing as they close in. So you can imagine the survival instinct kicks in. Shriek, swim, shriek, run back for your child (!), run, look again, realise it's dolphins, keep running, stop, admire the dolphins, realise the whole beach is looking at you, gather child and slope off feeling like a stupid big prat in a rubber suit.

Two things concern me.
1 child with no fear cant wait to go back to same beach !
2 husband is fretting that his survival instinct may be weak because he went back for said child!!!

Thank God for my pale and sulky computer geek son. At least I wont be left all alone in my middle-age.
Lord help me.