Don't worry, this is not a story about that awful band from my tweenhood.
One sunny afternoon we packed up our buckets and shovels and headed to Lincoln Park in West Seattle.
We took a walk through the woods to get to the beach.
I'll never get sick of the color green.
We were a little disappointed to find rocks instead of sand once we reached the shore (not uncommon in these parts), but if life gives you pebbles, you spend hours chucking them into the water.
Unless of course you're James, and then you just give your mother a heart attack by trying to eat them.
And let us all remember, the wise man built his house upon the rocks, not the sand...
I'm a huge fan of these little family outings.
Especially when my daughter sings and dances on picnic tables, inspiring my son to join the chorus.
We're a jazz hand kind of family.