The Pink Princess Camera

If there’s one thing about the sandy beach that gets me riled up, its the stupidity of litterbugs.  After the nasty group of rude teenagers next to us left, ( I love teenagers, really, I do, but these were just incredibly frustrating . . . nasty language, terrible manners, and perverse topics of conversation we just didn’t need to hear)  we were left with a heap of trash scattered around on the sand:  watermelon rinds, pop bottles, plastic grocery sacks, food wrappers, and the most disgusting of all, a nice collection of stinky cigarette butts.  Cigarette butts and dirty diapers on the beach literally make me gag.  And they make me hopping mad.  My sweet husband was scooting around cleaning up their grotesque little mess, when he came across this lovely pink princess camera that someone else must have lost earlier in the day.  Not only was it pink, plastic, and, well, disgustingly commercial, it also talked to us in a syrupy princess voice, telling us just how wonderful we looked, which was terrific comic relief from my rising temper concerning beach litter.  As a bonus, I got this fabulous image of my husband, an image I happen to love on so many ironic levels.