18 is enough.

I’ve read those blogs about “18 summers is all you get” and honestly, at this point in the game, that feels like enough. I mean, I’d love a few dozen more summers IF they could all be about 3 weeks shorter. Because we.are.done. We are sunned out and over-chlorinated and we can’t find our goggles or our favorite pool towel and no one feels like packing or unpacking the cooler or one more tote bag. We have eaten more hot dogs than we care to admit. We don’t feel like going for an ice cream cone. We are done. We have soaked up every bit of summer fun we can possibly absorb - beach, pool, barbecue, birthdays. We have caught the fireflies and read on the porch and laughed until we cried and danced like no one was watching. And it was great.

And now we are ready. One more week to finish up the bucket list, get the haircuts and the school supplies, meet the teachers and pack the lunches. It’s go time. And we’re ready.


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