Wild Thing. You Make My Heart Sing.

CatCon lost her voice last weekend at the beach. In fact, it's still gone, or she'd be posting this herself.

What's that? What does not having a voice have to do with being able to rock the keyboard on your best friend's blog, you may ask? You may ask, but I don't have the answer. She's pouty that way. Probably because I took away her whiteboard because I was tired of seeing her write:

"WHY? Why CAN'T we live at the beach? Give me ONE good reason. I could sing at that dive by the pier. TILLY could frolic in the dunes. MR. J could let his hair grow long — well, longer — and sell friendship bracelets. YOU could do whatever it is you do." (It was a very large whiteboard. She's now trying to master the art of lettering on an Etch-A-Sketch. It's not looking promising. )

So. CatCon lost her voice. No easy feat, but probably attributable to the ingestion of many hops and much tequila.

Or maybe multiple scoops of ice cream overcoated her vocal chords.

And definitely the sand. She swallowed a lot when she face planted on the shore. No connection whatsoever with the hops and the tequila, however. She was just giving the beach a hug — a big one — when we first arrived.

And the beach hugged her back. And said, "CatCon, I think I love you."

A girl could get used to that.