You are meticulous. You use the outdoor shower at the cabin. You rinse your feet with the designated water bucket before stepping onto the deck. You use the special foot rug, shake out your towel, and wipe down your legs until they are perfectly smooth. You climb into bed, pull up the sheets, and settle in for a blissful night’s sleep.
And there it is. That unmistakable, scratching, abrasive texture against your sheets. Sand.
How did it get there? Did it migrate through the air? Did it hitch a ride on your thoughts? Sand in the bed is the ultimate, inescapable curse of a beach vacation. It doesn’t matter if you live like a germaphobe or clean the house three times a day; by day two, the microscopic grit wins. It’s a minor, maddening sensory nightmare that defies all laws of physics.
