Ancient History

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On the brink of summer…

I can smell the Coppertone. I see us at the local kiddie amusement park, Heritage Square, baking in the shadeless lines so the kids can ride the Mixer. Another summer of sidewalk chalk and popsicle-stained patios (and hands) and the phrase “we’re grilling again tonight”. Another summer of thinking I can make it to the mailbox barefoot, but halfway there I am prancing like a Clydesdale trying to keep the bottom of my feet from frying on the driveway.

Thank God for another summer. Even the germs go on vacation. Even the little things, like not having to put socks on the kids because they are wearing sandals, make me want to pinch summer’s cheeks and hold its hand as long as I can. I love summer so much it might consider requesting a restraining order on me…I want to embrace it, and revel in the knowledge that I don’t have to remember to stuff Kleenex in my coat pockets or scrape the windows or fire up the Crock Pot for hearty dinners.

I have to laugh at myself though. I know that by mid-August I will be rhapsodizing over football season, sweaters, hot cocoa, pumpkin patches, and crisp autumn air.

In a few hours, I will be the mother of a brand new third-grader and a brand new first-grader. Today is their last day of school.

When I was in elementary school, I was always nervous on the last day as the teacher passed out the final report cards. My heart pounded as I read the “Grade Assignment for the Following School Year” line at the bottom of the canary yellow page. I was a great student, teacher’s-pet type, but still got worried for some reason (perhaps my deplorable handwriting which still plagues me to this day) I wouldn’t be promoted to the next grade. Seeing the next grade level typed on my report card made my heart soar each year. I did it! Even with bad handwriting.

I hope my kids feel a sense of accomplishment as we head home today, knowing how hard they worked and how much they grew academically, socially, and spiritually.

6 comments to On the brink of summer…

  • Amy P

    I love to read what you write. It just fills up that spot that’s a little empty for me in the middle of my day. I read the PP Board first, and then when I need just that something extra, I come over here to read. Of course I imagine the text pours out of you, first try, no effort.
    How ever it really happens, thank you for writing!

  • mopsy

    Thanks Amy…that was really nice to read! It means a lot to know you enjoy what you read here. It’s fun for me, too.

  • Okay, the visual of you (based on the one picture) prancing like a Clydesdale made me smile.

    I can totally relate with the no socks in summer joy…and we barely have winter here. I’m always thankful that in our extreme weather we put on fewer clothes and don’t have to shovel stuff.

  • mopsy

    No shoveling, Lexie? I thought many Longhorns live down there in Texas? Ha! You are lucky to have milder winters. My one and only trip to Texas was a visit to San Antonio and I thought I would drown in the humidity.

  • sister-of-mopsy

    Mopsy, when I think of you and summer, I think of you in your cute two-piece swim suit, age 6, running down the backyard hill as fast as you can, about to courageously plunge into our kiddy pool only to come to screeching halt at the last second and then tip-toe through to the other side then out again. I, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to splash you and see you run around like the water was some kind of nuclear bio hazard that would freeze your body parts if exposed for longer than 2.5 seconds… 🙂

  • mopsy

    Thanks a lot! I am still embarrassed by my fear of water. I remember thinking each time as I approached the pool that I was going to jump in, but I couldn’t muster up enough bravery to just do it. Some things never change!

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