And the word is... Sand

So while updating my profile (because I know you all want to know even more about me... yyyyeah), I was asked the question "What's the most amount of sand you've ever had in your swimming trunks?" I tried to answer, but then it tells me, after I go through the entire story, that I am only allowed 400 characters. Hm. So, here is my answer!

I don't know about sand, but one time I went to the beach with my brother and sister, right? We knew something was up when all the guys there were jumping out of the water, itching themselves and scooting around like dogs, but the women weren't even fazed. After a little while of watching, we figured they must be goofing off (most of the guys doing it were in one big group anyhow.) and decided to go ahead and get in. Well, as it turns out, it was breeding time for hundreds...... and thousands of....... jellyfish. So, going into the ocean where millions of iddy biddy baby jellyfish are floating around was not the best idea.

Why did the girls not have a problem? Their bathing suits were tight enough the baby jellies didn't get trapped. Unfortunately, it isn't a social norm for dudes to wear bikinis. So, hundreds of baby jelly fish were getting trapped in the guys' board shorts. And you know how a lot of bathing suits have the built in mesh (that never really made sense to me to be honest)? It was awful. Then, after we scurried out of the water, the little rascals still hung on! Even after we were out and tried rolling in the sand and everything, they were still stinging!! It was so bad I wanted to cry. I had to pretty much zone out and lay there in the sun until the little boogers dried out and died. Mild discomfort? I think not. No, it was more like... excruciating torture by being pricked with hundreds of alcohol-soaked, burning hot needles that have microscopic teeth on them in your... umm... yeah.

It kind of felt like this was in my swimming trunks

When I got home and shed my garments in order that I may cleanse my body of the sea salts etc, hundreds of little tiny things that very much resembled sand fell all over the floor. I literally had to get a hand broom and dustpan to clean it all up. The whole time, I just kept reliving those few minutes of agony. So sand in my pants? I would much rather have pants full of sand and risk pooping a pearl than have to go through those baby jellies again....