. . . even in the depths of winter, inevitably ends up in a complete outfit change for each of the small humans.
I try to encourage playing at the high tide mark.
"Isn't this fun in this nice, dry sand? Sticks! No, stop shooting at your brother. Oh well done, yes, you've found a dead bird. No, don't touch that. Or that. OK, let's go down to the water already."
After that it's just a matter of time before wet feet turn into wet arses as someone underestimates the height, or the speed, or the waviness of the waves.
As I said, it's inevitable. So I make sure I've packed extra clothes and just roll with the joy of it all.