In two weeks I will turn 56 years old.
But not in the summer!
Each summer time turns into a time machine for me
and I turn into her…
(Notice the fashionable hiking shoes!)
During summer I lick popsicles. I stub my toe, (everyone is expected at least one stubbed toe in the summer), I marvel at fireflies, I thrill at fireworks reflecting off the lake or in peoples’ faces, I find sprinklers to run through on purpose, I nap when I am sleepy. I eat with my fingers then lick them. I get to stay up late and even sometimes sleep in a sleeping bag. I play games. I sit on the porch just because I am hot. I breathe in fresh earth after I have hidden from the thunder storm. I swing on swings. I blow huge Bazooka Bubble gum bubbles and read the comic and fortune. I scratch my mosquito bites. I get dirty and stay dirty.
It’s that drastic aging that happens at the end of summer that I dislike immensely. When I have to come back to my real age again.
Summer is young and fresh, and hopeful. I am getting in my time machine now…won’t you join me?
I hear the ice cream truck singing already…c’mon let’s run…