He pulled in quietly and she crawled into the passenger side and sank down into the seat where no one could see her. She looked over at him. “You look good, Matty,” she observed. “You too, little sis,” he said drily as his eyes took in her disheveled state. They burst into laughter as he drove them down the highway.
(Alex thinks mystery girl’s name should be Sapphire. I’m concerned about his judgment. I’m naming her on Monday, so please let me know what you think her name should be before then. All non-Sapphire suggestions will be considered.)
***doodl-oodl-For the Love of Blog Month-jazz hands***
I’m helping my daughter pack for camp and went to a few stores for some things on her list. You guys. The back to school stuff is already on shelves. Have you seen this? People complain about stores stocking Christmas stuff too early, but this back to school malarkey is the real killer. Unfreakingbelievable.
It’s the beginning of July and the stores want us to think about back to school? Too soon, stores.* No one needs their Elmers glue that early. I think you guys are sniffing glue if you think I’m going to shop back to school at the beginning of July. (Does anyone remember what happened last year? Maybe I should get with the program and shop early, but no, I refuse.)
The summer’s been great, but in my world, it’s only half over, and you can pry that second half out of my cold, dead hands, Wal-Mart. We’ve already done the beach, a water park, and swim team, but we still have a lot of summering to do around here, so back the H off, Target. Things still on my to-do list before summer ends:
-play cards with friends while kids swim in the pool, at least ten more times.
-let wonky ice cream truck music completely creep me out.
-clean up the piles and piles of papers from the last school year.
-go to a faux Queen concert at an outdoor amphitheater (It’s faux Queen, because my lil’ town mostly books tribute bands, and I don’t even care. It’s like shopping generic. Same Queen music, a quarter of the price.).
-send my kids to camp and spend hours alone in silence, poking through their rooms and getting rid of crap they don’t need.
-sleep in past 6am, for the love of my buckwheat pillow.
-epic water balloon fight on the front lawn.
I refuse to set an alarm and pack lunches. Too soon. Need more time. I had this conversation with my kids a few days ago:
Them: We haven’t had, like, lunch in, like, five weeks or something.
Me: Why not?
Them: You haven’t been making us lunch.
Me: I keep the fridge stocked with lunch meat, yogurt tubes, cheese sticks, and fruit. Feed thyself.
Them: Right, okay. That’s what we’ve been doing.
Me: That’s lunch. Good job. You’re nailing it.
Summer is for grazing and no set lunchtimes and lack of schedules and making Toothless the Dragon out of boxes so you can ride him (This is actually happening in my basement as I write this.).
Dear stores, you are impressing no one with your shiny-appled displays. Put the sunscreen back out and stop trying to suck us into your vortex of despair. I will have no part of your early erasers and preemptive pencils. I’ll tell you where you can stick your glue sticks.
No permission slips, no after school practices, no spelling tests. Simmer down, stores. Back to school can back the freak off.
If you need me, I’ll be at the pool, defiantly waving my beach towel.
*I feel like this sentiment is more for parents of older kids. When my kids were littler, preschool could not come fast enough, because summers meant I became the freaking cruise director with no break. So if you’re in the land of littles, I sooooo hear you, may summer fly by until preschool drop off returns, and may you read this as a promise of future bliss.