See you later, alligator
I’m not a ‘quality time’ parent. I’m in it for the details, not the days at Disney World (although those days have been pretty fine too). I’m in it for stolen minutes stretched across my daughter’s bed, listening to her talk; for playing catch at the pool or beach with my son and marveling at his reach; for long car rides and afternoon walks and any time I can get them alone and just be.
Summers are the best days for that. Summers are the breath between school and sports and work, the long slow exhalation as we throw off a schedule that’s too tight. I’m off to long hot days, to sticky Popsicles that stain tongues blue and green, to water gun fights and wiffle balls and hermit crabs and fireworks. To sunburns, to too much sand, to chlorine scented hair and water-wrinkled feet. To all the tiny moments that make up these days, to treasures I can hold on to when another year has flown. Because after all this time together, my kids are still some of the most interesting people I know.
See you in September.