Some otherwise rational and intelligent people that I know are erroneously suggesting that autumn, with its return to school and routine, is the MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR. These good people are sadly mistaken. Fall's not that awesome. It's not as rad as summer by any stretch of the imagination. At least not in my books.
OK, ya'll, in order to get to know me, you've got to know this: I love summer. Love, love, love it. It is the most wonderful time of the year. It is what we northerners wait for, what we hope for and what we crave through those dark and dreary winter months. It's the light at the end of the tunnel.
What's not to love about glorious, wonderful summer?
Well, as I was observing my worn and jagged heels in the shower this morning, etched with seemingly permanent fine, red lines from the sand at the shore, I realized that there are a FEW things I will not miss about summer.
I will not miss having the most unattractive heels this side of Alaska. Try as I might, and I do mean TRY (I wear fuzzy socks over Vaseline-coated feet most nights at the risk of completely losing my romantic life. Thank goodness I already have four kids...), I cannot seem to get rid of my horrible heels. And while I know a pedicure could go a long way (I have one scheduled for next week -- just in time for the people at work to think I have normal feet), I would need a full-time esthetician living under our roof to keep these feet looking snazzy. And even then, no promises.
I will not miss earwigs. Having found them on beds, in the bathroom and inside towels and washcloths all summer long, they are my LEAST liked bug. And I do vehemently hate bugs. And my PERSONAL favourite. Husband served me up one GRILLED yesterday on a platter of hamburgers. So I am officially DONE DONE DONE with barbecue season for this year, thank-you very much, props to that little blackened gem.
I will not miss horseflies. They like very sensitive areas of my body, so let's just say that none of you would ever know that I had a bite for it's visibility. But I also don't have ringworm, so there is a very good reason that I scratch my nethersides so often. And so rigorously.
I will not miss cooking hot lunches. Today, we had two different cans of soup, a left-over grilled hotdog, a PB&J sandwich on a hamburger bun and a ham sandwich on a hotdog bun, veggies and dip and muffins, along with various leftover sweets. And a few mugs of Chai tea.
Eclectic? Charming? Or desperate? You choose.
I will not miss hearing the words, "I'm boooored. There's noooootttthhhing to do." Yes there is something to do. Scratch my backside.
I will not miss the DIRT! Everywhere you go in the summer, you attract dirt. Dirt is magnetically attached to my children from head to toe. Don't get me started on Husband. The bottoms of everyone's feet are a permanent shade of deep crimson from the red Island clay. I catch myself scrubbing their faces even when it isn't dirt I see, but left over scabs or food from meal time. Everything looks like dirt to me. OCD? I (prefer to) think not.
I will not miss the crazy bedtimes. This Gal needs a bedtime again, never mind the kids. I catch myself laying down in bed with a kid, and wishing I could crash in whomever's bed I find myself in. That doesn't always make for the best sleeping arrangements. Particularly for the child you happen to be flopped haphazardly on top of.
And I will not miss waiting for it all to end.
The truth is, when summer begins, I know the countdown is on. After the first weekend of summer passes, I find myself thinking, "Oh! That was the first weekend of summer -- gone! Just like that!" Then, when July is gone, I find myself thinking, "Oh man! July is gone! I might as well say summer is over now. Done." And as soon as August arrives, I start telling everyone in a forlorn and choked-up voice, "Well, I guess summer is officially over." I live like a Debby Downer. Like I am anticipating Doomsday when summer arrives. Because as soon as summer starts, I am already thinking it's over when it's hardly even begun.
So, I won't miss counting the days down.
But what I will anxiously look forward to in anticipation of next summer is...having all the time in the world to relax and yes, maybe even complain a bit...about the most wonderful time of the year: my favourite season, summer!
Because summer's da' bomb...mostly.