The group of us took a day trip to the seaside town of Pescara on Sunday. Most spent the day baking in the 90 degree heat and talking about the Dolce and Gabbanna speedos that reigned on the beach. While everyone was tanning, I sat under an umbrella that I didn't pay for and did some hard core people watching. I was really enamored with this couple sitting near me, and wrote this while relaxing on my beach chair:
I can't continue writing my homework until I get out what I think about this couple sitting under the umbrella in front of me here on the beach in Pescara. They are picture perfect. They have a small child who is no more than 8-10 months old. The husband looks possibly French with sleek, frameless glasses, a navy blue polo shirt, and a slender body. His wife is beautiful and freckled, wearing a pink flowered bikini with a matching headband. They hold their little daughter so tenderly. At one point, the mother was stretched out on a beach chair looking into her baby's face. She was stroking the child's hair, tucking it behind its ear, cooing. Her father held her later, walking around the tables and umbrellas while his daughter sucked her thumb. They are perfect in a perfectly unpretentious way, beautifully content and sun-splashed, oozing a European attitude I envy.
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