Policing nose-picking Sunday School children who would rather eat their crusty snot than share a Tonka truck always reminds me of this truth: Elementary school teachers are veritable saints. Fortunately, I adore my own little nose pickers and realize that while my impatience abjectly disqualifies me for canonization, I truly relished this summer with my tiny entourage-their incontinence, notwithstanding. After our Hilton Head holiday, the summer loomed languid and tropical before us, that is, until a generous friend afforded an all-access pass to their pool and gargantuan trampoline. It was within these crystalline waters that we found sanctuary from the torrid temperatures and -more importantly- an exercise that could successfully exhaust both children. Truly, the naps that follow such exertion are the stuff of fiction.
At the risk of sounding whimsical, these afternoons were magical. Magical in the memories they produced and the slumber they induced. Farewell sweet summer; I loathe your departure as much as Jason loathes Sunday School detail.
p.s. I wish I could congratulate a not-unattractive pool boy for the "action" photos. Alas- it was just the sexy self-timer feature on my camera. Sigh.
1 comment:
I too loathe the finality of summer. I am certainly not ready for it to end even as the cooler nights are creeping in.
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