Summer is sort of like winter.
Before you call the guys in the white coats, let me explain. You see, it’s all about the grass being greener on the other side.
‘Round about August, it’s so hot around here I find myself just wishing for winter. I keep forgetting I really don’t like winter. I get cold if the wind blows in April, so you can imagine how miserable I am in winter. My nose runs, my feet are freezing, and I have a REALLY hard time getting out of bed in the morning. By January, I’m wishing for “hot” again.
On the other side of the coin, my kids are wishing for summer all year long. All they can see is freedom from school, freedom to sleep late, freedom from homework. They forget how boring it is. They forget they have a mother who makes them help around the house. They forget the lawn grows really fast in summer.
Still, it’s pretty fun for a while. By mid-July, though, I start threatening them with more chores if I hear how bored they are one more time. “There’s nothing to do around here” is my favorite. I look outside at the trampoline sitting there, all lonely. Their bikes are collecting dust in the garage. The baseball glove has been shoved under the bed. The reruns are rerunning for the third time. When I suggest reading a book, they look at me like I’m an idiot.
What they really mean is “I miss being with my friends all day every day. I like you, Mom, but you’re really not the one I want to be hangin’ with.”
By August, I’m ready to have them out of the house, and they’re ready to be gone, too.
Some years are worse than others, and the “there’s nothing to do” syndrome kicks in early. This year it was on the afternoon of the last day of school. Oh, dear, it’s going to be a really long summer.
And I’m already longing for winter.
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