Here in the northwest, we are in full-on over-heated mode. Sure, it may not be as hot as in say Death Valley, but when a girl is pondering the merits of freezing her undies, it’s too hot. Which, of course, reminds me of two things: the college prank of freezing undergarments and driving to San Francisco.
I don’t really have much to say about freezing undies aside from it never happened to me, but it did to the ladies living across the hall from me my freshman year. At the time, I was horrified. Not that young men had handled their panties and bras but at the thought of having to rustle up enough quarters to return frozen undergarments to their proper state. Hey, it’s all about priorities, man. As weird as it is to want to paw through a stranger’s underwear drawer, I understand it’s a prank with a longstanding tradition, much like the frat prank of collecting bows off of bras in the laundry. I was more of a fan of saran-wrapping cars myself. But like most things back in the early adulthood years, it sounded like a good idea at the time. Continue reading
Today is August 20th and school starts for us on September 5th. If my children have 180 days of school and all three will be packing a lunch this year, that means I have 15 more days before my whole life changes at the rate of a speeding train, headed my way. Summer and it’s hallmark of no alarm clocks is nearly over. Instead we hurtle towards the time of our life where the mornings are crazed and cranky and often verging on catastrophic. And I hold in my hand a lunchbox that makes me want to cry.
June 23rd arrived in a lovely fashion…fairly sunny and no alarm clock ringing in my ear. I couldn’t help but smile at the start of my summer vacation; when you are the parent of school-age children, you live and breathe by the school calendar.
And since the calendar now tells us we are on summer vacation, we decided to kick off our summer on the right foot this year.
We packed up the kids for a trip to a nearby indoor water park.
But first I cleaned out the refrigerator. Which means I got rid of all the soupy and mysterious once-vegetables and finally scrubbed off the spilled caramel ice cream topping. There wasn’t too much sweat or swearing involved in pouring out the cucumbers from the veggie bins. However, things were different with the caramel clean-up on aisle “needs better refrigerator hygiene.”
I can’t remember, but I believe I got the jar of caramel ice cream topping for some froofy dessert I made back at Christmas. And at some point it tipped over. With its lid not properly affixed. And the contents, except for the scant tablespoon or so remaining in the jar, made it’s way to the bottom of the fridge.
So yes, there was a bit of swearing sweating involved in its removal.
All of which put my in the proper frame of mind to stand around in a bathing suit for 15 hours exhibiting my chicken flesh.
Of course, a few 15 hours or so more and I’ll be back home with the rest of my summer stretching before me.
Filled with such gems of joy as cleaning out the kids’ closets.
My family is fortunate enough to have a swimming pool out in the back yard. I neither blow it up nor cover it in the winter, but it works for my hooligans, ahem, angels. Of course, I do have a garage full of the previous years’ swimming pools, seeings how we started in a blow-up pool the size of a large dog dish and just kept buying pools to fit the size and number of kiddos.
All I can say is that nothing beats the pure awesomeness of the lingering scent of Banana Boat sun screen on tired kiddos who just spent a couple of hours splashing about in the pool. I give it a two thumbs up, or in this case, a thumb and a toe!