Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Dog Days of Summer

The coffee didn't automatic brew this morning, so I'm sleepily typing.  I hate it when I walk into the kitchen and the aromatic smell of just-brewed coffee doesn't hit me at 5 AM.  Oh well, you know what they say about best laid plans.

When I was little, all summer long I ran around outside.  I remember sitting on the couch reading when I was eight or nine, and my mom coming in and forcing me out of the house.  I used to run around the neighborhood, playing with girls younger than me and older than me, picking up a baseball or wiffle ball game in the front of someone's house, going down to the high school and exploring the parking lot, and getting really dirty. 

I remember one summer when I was much smaller, my brother told me he buried a bunch of army men in the red dirt pile.  We had this pile of red dirt that was just past the spot where the big brown van was parked, and we weren't really allowed to play there.  Red dirt stains (badly).  I sat there, probably for three hours digging in that dirt looking for those army men.  I think I found two, and I ruined my clothes.

One summer day, my sisters and I were swimming and the neighbors climbed the fence to yell at us.  They were boys and mean ones at that (who have since apologized for their behavior as errant children), and they were so jealous of the fact that we had a pool and they didn't.  They had a friend over, and she tumbled right over the fence and broke her arm. 

So many memories...

Summer is different for my kids, because I work.  They don't have days of free time spent gallivanting around a neighborhood.  They basically go to school and once a week they enjoy the swimming pool at my parents' house.  

On the weekends, I encourage him to hop on his bike and ride to the end of the street or explore some of the empty lots.  He'd rather relax in front of the TV or complain when I ask him to work on his summer reading! 

I figure once Number Two is old enough to go exploring with him, he'll take me up on the offer. 

Those hot days of summer held such wonderful memories for me, and I'd love my kids to have memories like those as well.

1 comment:

  1. I always felt sad and guilty while working full-time while my kiddos were smaller. I saved up all my vacation time for a few jaunts to try to make up for those kind of summers I remember as well.  *hug*

    ReplyDelete

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