LAGUNA BEACH, Calif. (September 29, 2007 04:44 AM EDT) There's something we Wagners have had to learn to accept. It started long ago, and extends into many aspects of our lives.

We have to do everything twice.

When we buy something, usually a big product, we know it most likely is going to have to be returned for being broken or damaged. I know it sounds crazy, but it's true.

Example: When we unwrapped a table and chair set for our patio, we noticed a large scratch across the top. We returned it, grabbed another and ... the same thing happened. Only this time when we returned it, they didn't have any more.

We found a flaw in the new carpet. After it was ripped up, we were told that color was no longer available.

We bought a new fax machine that didn't work. My daughter's doll house was missing a part on Christmas Day. A packet of screws for a shelf is missing one.

See what I mean?

We call it just being a Wagner.

Which brings me to our lovely day at the beach. We had decided to spend Labor Day weekend in Laguna Beach, Calif., with our girls and my parents.

We loaded up with towels, chairs, snacks and umbrellas and headed down to the beach. I packed the baby's stroller with all these things and attempted to push it in the sand so it would be easier than carrying everything.

My toddler, husband and father were playing in the water while my mother and I sat in the beach chairs with the baby nearby. We were way up on the sand, nowhere near where the tide was hitting.

Then I noticed the waves were getting awfully big. No one else seemed concerned, though, and the surfers were loving it.

All of a sudden, I noticed water coming toward us. It happened so fast we didn't have time to move. But in another way, it was like a car wreck, where you see it happening before it happens but can't do anything about it.

The water hit us with force and swallowed us up to our necks. As the wave moved, it swept up sand and rolled it over us and on up the beach.

I start yelling for the baby because at this point, I can't see anything. All I know is that a mighty big wave came our way and I can't see her. She could be halfway up the beach by now.

She's crying, but luckily for her, she has good survival skills from all those times she falls down. She had planted her chubby feet into the sand and bent her legs to brace herself. The sand and water seemed to have missed her, and I notice the lady next to her is still sitting calmly in her beach chair. She isn't even wet.

After we were hit, we looked up and my daughter, husband and father are still in the ocean, apparently unaware of what just happened. They said they didn't notice anything abnormal.

Then we surveyed the damage.

Our things were strewn from here to Texas. A shoe there, a sand bucket over there, our bag turned upside down and filled with wet sand. My wallet had sand inside the zippered coin pocket. It's everywhere, and everything is soaking wet. The stroller had been turned over and is now covered with so much sand my husband wants to throw it away. My father's cell phone was ruined. My mother's camera got sand in the lens and doesn't work right.

I can't imagine ever getting all this sand out of all our stuff.

We scooped up what we could and found some missing shoes on a surfboard where a lady had started gathering unclaimed shoes.

What the heck happened?

So much for a nice, quiet day at the beach.

My toddler informed me she just wanted to go back home because she doesn't like the big waves.

I had so much sand on me and in my mouth I don't argue.

My family now refers to this incident as the mini-tsunami.

I looked up and down the beach and realized that strange wave just hit pockets of people. The people on either side of us didn't even get wet or have sand slammed in their face.

But, of course we did!

It just goes along with being a Wagner.

---

Las Vegas-based asap contributor Angie Wagner is on leave from her job at the AP.