Is the Brady-Bundchen (“The Brady Bundch” maybe? I’ll work work on it.) the most impossibly perfect family in the world? By way of full disclosure, I went to the beach on Father’s Day as well. My darling Irish Rose and my lovely sister and I hung out at Green Harbor in Marshfield for a few hours in the morning. And with all due respect to us and everyone else there, it didn’t look anything like this. We looked like a beach scene from “Jaws,” all middle-aged suburbanites trying to suck our guts in or keep the butt-flab from hanging our from under our bathing suits, mixed with a few gawky kids and dorky teenagers. The Bradys take a simple candid picture playing on the beach and it looks like it’s off the home page of an all-inclusive family resort you’ll never be able to afford.
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