The Lardashians Take Florida, Part One: Sanibel Island

In the game of “With Whom Would You Rather Be Stranded on a Deserted Island," the one foil against which my family would be the lesser of evils is children under the age of 18. I am TERRIBLE with children! The week before I left for vacation, I visited my mom’s preschool and a baby rejected my body like Paula Deen’s deflects raw kale. I attribute my lack of a bountiful bosom as the source of this repellence, which makes sense when I imagine trying to rock-climb up a flat, brick wall.

My mother and sister, the most matriarchal figures in my immediate family, poke fun at my age-blindness when it comes to estimating how old a child is. Apparently, little ones who can’t hold up their heads are not four years old and cannot read. My own eventual children will be held to a higher standard if they expect to receive their allowance, but whatever. In the name of self-improvement, I instigated a game upon our family's landing in Florida where I placed a bet on how old errant children were and was demoralized by the aforementioned parties at my own will.

As it turns out, this baby is not two and cannot speak in full sentences:

Try harder.

Try harder.

This child is not three and might even be able to solve a simple math problem:

K.

K.

This game of Child Bingo continued throughout the first half of our vacation on Sanibel Island, which was a much-needed respite from work according to the whole cup of spoiled almond milk that I consumed on the eve of our departure.

The island is small: a child-friendly retirement farm where it rains daily at 3 p.m. and everything closes by nine because Judge Judy is on. There was seafood aplenty (Marla ordered oysters almost every night) and the produce was so. fucking. fresh. In fact, I’m still dreaming about the perfectly ripe sliced tomato that came with my omelette at The Lighthouse Café

Yas.

Having little to do goes a long way in terms of headspace when it feels like your feet are barely hitting the ground as they run a workaholic’s marathon without a map. Too often I forget to take off my shoes and scrunch the sand of ~now~ between my concert pianist-length toes. This grounding was a highlight of part one of our trip, and here are a few more.

1. My Mother's In-Flight Tapas Plate

8:45 a.m.: "It's almost lunchtime!"

2. This:

3. This Piece of Art

4. My Mother Getting Loaded on Happy Hour Drinks and Putting Off Lesson Plans

5. Me Getting Loaded and Dancing to My Heart's Content with My Closest Friends

Some kind of wonderful.

A video posted by Mia Lardiere (@theoliveeye) on

6. Discovering That My Family Can Ride Bikes (????)

7. This Realization

8. Writing This Blog Entry on an Episode of The Barefoot Contessa after Mixing a Mojito with a Benadryl (for a Bee Sting)

9. This Photo

10. These Women

11. Food!!!

Pizza from Barbatella in Naples on 100.

Coming up next is Part Two, where I unveil a great and special photo project that my sister and I worked on in Disney World. For now, here are a few more photos from my camera machine:


Analyze & Discuss:

Send me Google Images of babies below and I will try to guess how old they are.