The Oregon coast was made for kids and dogs. Where Cannon Beach has an aesthetic of Coastal Grandma, with its blown glass art galleries and overpriced surf and turf eateries, Seaside is 100% State Fair with its painted carousel and Pronto pups. After a quick bite of pizza, kids made a beeline to the beach with their plastic pails and shovels. Oreo just added another layer of gleeful chaos to the mix. They immediately found other kids and dogs.

The thing about the Oregon coast is that it is not a California beach. There’s always a stiff breeze and the water feels like liquid ice. By every medical and logical standard, it’s too cold to swim, so we didn’t bring swimsuits in March.

The thing is, that kids are drawn to the sea no matter the time of year or the temperature. They tire of simply digging in the sand and want to wade in. It starts with just feet. Then rolled up pants cuffs. Inevitably, someone always ends up getting soaked by a rogue wave. Can you believe it! After the excitement wears off we trudge back to the shore for an awkward clean up at the public toilets.

I left Tim standing outside with the dog and an armload of waterlogged sweaters sandy toys. When I came out he was surrounded by a flock of sales bros from the nearby hotel. They were giving him the hard pitch for timeshares. He had a massive smile in his face. Probably because he was imagining how disappointed they’d all be to see the meager remains of our bank account after our recent car purchase. As he extricated himself, two of them tried to have a run at me. They ignored my no-thank-yous with the energy of frat boys. One of them had the gall to say to me, “He’s a party popper, but you’re a party pooper.” When in the history of sales or pickups has negging worked on a non-drunk participant?

We told Logan and his little friend to get lost and took a hard right into an ice cream shop where they happily took the last remaining damp dollars from our pockets. All in all, it was great day.