My earliest memory - First attempt at descriptive writing.

My earliest memory would be from the summer of 1990 I can probably only remember just two minutes of it but here goes... I was just two years young at the time, we had went to Turkey on a beach holiday with my family and immediate family (both my uncles families and my grandparents too).

It was far too hot to stand on dry sand, so as a smart two year old I would go as close to the sea as possible, close enough that my feet would be cooled by the couple inches of water that the waves brought in. I remember my brother and my older cousin had this beach ball that I was so frantically mesmerised by, they were in slight deeper waters for me, around knee height of a six year old (my brother and cousin were both six at the time). Anytime I made movements towards them, I would hear my granddads voice telling me "NO!!" which obviously meant 'don't even think about going there' so I would look back at him sat on his beach chair and his newspaper in hand (he was an investor and these are times before the internet so newspapers was all he looked at) then I'd continue waddling around the wet sand knowing not to go towards that mesmerising ball that flamboyantly bounced from bro to cousin, I'd pick up the wet sand and pathetically attempt to launch it at my brother with most of the sand ending up down my back.

I can't remember much of the actual scenery but I remember people! I remember people had frizzy hair all up in the air and curly kind of like Hall and Oates had, no man had shaved their chest yet, and everyone was wearing damn speedo briefs! My dad would support a thick moustache and a fluffy bouncy french crop style hair, he was too busy playing cards with his brothers behind my granddad and the women were on a women's spa day or something (just a guess, they just weren't there), so we were under supervision of the mighty granddad (damn how much I love this man).

The ball dropped next to me, I remember instantly my eye catching on to it, and this time there wasn't a "NO" from granddad (I'm guessing he was too indulged in his paper). I picked it up and started running towards my brother, although I couldn't see where I was going with me holding the ball square to my face. after a few yards there must have been a dug hole in the shallow waters in which I stepped onto and fell, the hole wasn't deep at all but the miss step caused me to fall and go face first into the water causing me to swallow a small amount of that disgusting salty sea water, I lifted my head and threw up instantly, at which point granddad came flying in like a superhero and lifted me up. He then called my bro over and gave him a shove kick (since he had his hands full holding me) it wasn't a violent kick but more of a warning kick, this was probably the only time I have ever heard my granddad raise his voice in my entire 29 years "WATCH YOUR FUCKING BROTHER!!"

Granddad had grounded me to the beach chair where I spent the rest of the afternoon playing with my dads sony walkman..

That's pretty much all I remember

@michelle.gent I wasn't sure if wanted a comment or if you wanted a post..