First trip to the sea

Bismillah Rahman ar-Raheem.

I don’t remember the first time I went to the sea. My parents and I travelled a lot when I was little and I don’t think they would remember that first moment either.

In the summer we went on a little family outing to the seaside, and Insha’Allah I will not forget it.

Normally at home we just have sand. Any water in the mix is self added… so we play with buckets and spades, and little jugs of water but large bodies of water, no.

We told my oldest we were going to see the sea and of course he didn’t really know what that was, and being him he decided it probably wasn’t that great and he should resist. So we drove there with him vocally protesting all the way.

The sea is GEG GEH (not nice). I don’t want to go (repeat – raising and lowering volume and intensity of wail).

Then we got there and he couldn’t really see it, so he continued to complain.

He then saw the playground. Which is something else you don’t get in the desert, so he desperately wanted to try that out. But it was in the full sun and really hot, so we somehow managed to keep him going.

Then he saw it.

MAMA, MAMA LOOK AT ALL THAT WATER!!!

MAMA, MAMA LOOK….

ITS MOVING!

The moment his little eyes just lit up with wonder, is a memory I will always treasure, Insha’Allah.

He asked if we can go in the water… of course we can.

Instinctively he jumped over the little waves without being shown. The little one copying him and giggling.

Their clothes were quickly shed and left on the shore.

Then my oldest sons glee and a little bit of fear as we went into the water. Me in my burka trying to figure out how swimming in a burka works (last time I went to the sea I was not married or even a Muslim!). Do I just get the whole thing wet, or try to inch it up gradually and gracefully as I enter the water, without showing everyone my trousers? Is that even possible…

I managed some kind of combination of maintaining partial dryness, and just getting everything wet…

My oldest son clinging to his Baba, and the little one clinging to me.

He wanted to go deeper, deeper, then it was too far and he wanted to go BACK. QUICKLY BABA. Scrambling up his father like he was a tree, almost onto his shoulders to get further out of the water.

After we swam around for a bit we came back to the shore, and they played in the shallow water. My oldest has a bit of a shoe obsession so a highlight for him was discovering he could float his shoes off into the water and they would come back! : D Awesome!

The little one dug holes and enjoyed all the sensations, wiggling his feet in the water, splashing.

Then Baba went to get some food and we had a barbecue Chicken picnic.

The journey returning home was not so different from the journey there, except the topic of the wails had changed:

I don’t WANT to go HOME. HOME is GEG GEH. I want to go BACK to the sea. CAN WE BABA. I WANT TO GO TO THE SEA (repeat – raising and lowering volume and intensity of wail).

In the end, after a long day the wails finally stopped and there were two tired but happy little boys fast asleep on their way home to their desert.

Subhana Allah (glory to God) the world is a wonderful, fantastical place.

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