"Boat"

Annalee and I grabbed lunch at a trendy pizzeria on South Congress, fueling ourselves for an afternoon of pre-beach errands. She ate a good many bites of her plain cheese slice, but seemed unimpressed by the loud music and pseudo-hip atmosphere. "Park," she kept saying for the latter half of the repast. Having paid and gotten out the door, we ran through rain to the minivan, drove 50 yards, and ran through more rain to our favorite toy store in search of a kite and a plastic pale and shovel for our big trip to the coast. The store is on the verge of moving to another location and had sold out of both things we came for, so we drove to another toy emporium across town. We chose the simplest (but not smallest) kite we could find, one that looks to be a good flyer. We also got a sand-castle set -- all the plastic implements that could be crammed into a bucket and sold for $12.99. After a four-hour drive south, we parked the minivan on a ferry and waited for it to cross the three-hundred-yard channel separating us from Port Aransas. As we crossed, I said to my wife that I thought it was the first boat Annalee had been on, and Annalee opened her eyes from a lengthy nap, took in the scene, and said "boat."