Ah, the first day of summer vacation, no more early morning trips to the drop-off lane. No more harping at the children about finishing their homework before bedtime. Most importantly, no more trips to the principal’s office.
Instead, I will sleep in a half-hour longer. I will harp at the children not to break a leg jumping off the trampoline. I will make frequent trips to the ice cream parlor for soft-serve cones and to the dollar store to purchase cheap water balloons and the flavoring for a million summer snow-cones. I will be the chauffeur du jour for play dates and outings and, I can totally get behind that because, no more trips to the Principal's office.
We kicked off summer vacation yesterday with our first family outing on the boat. The weather was not the kindest; it drizzled on and off and the sun played peek-a-boo just enough to frustrate my attempts at getting a slight tan-sweatshirt off, sweatshirt on, sweatshirt off, sweatshirt on-it was annoying.
The kids didn’t seem to mind the lack of sunshine or the frigid temperature of the water, the Teenager even screwed up enough courage to swim a few lengths of the boat with the Rowdie dog, who, it should be documented; spent the entire day retrieving driftwood from the lake. Toys? Who needs toys? We have all this lovely drifting tree matter right here, people! and, the boat was littered with tree limbs and sticks by the end of the day but; at least we can say our dog knows how to fetch.
The Man-Cub made one valiant attempt to swim but, the shock of the cold water sent him scurrying right back onto the swim deck. He did, however, enjoy an afternoon of fishing with his father while I read Angels & Demons (sorry Dad, you were wrong; it isn’t as good as The DaVinci Code) and his sister demonstrated her wicked dance moves, dance moves reserved specifically for boating and not for public consumption or, as she put it so eloquently: If you put this on your blog, I will keeeel youuu.
Sorry, Teenager, some summer rituals just can’t be hidden from the public eye and, who am I to deprive the world of your interpretation of Dancing like an Egyptian? No one, that's who.
God, I love summer.