Summertime


It is eighty degrees, beautiful blue skies, an occasional puff of clouds, sun shining, the smell of BBQ in the air, the water logged screams of children with arms crossed over their middles, blue lips, freckled pink faces and wrinkled fingers as they jump and splash into clear, crisp, chlorinated water, the hollow bouncing sound of the ball hitting pavement where grade school boys are playing four square with someone’s little brother, the swish and snap of the jump ropes controlled by pigtailed little girls with matching outfits and sparkling new tennis shoes as their cadence echoes in the garage where they play, the cat calls and whistles of the older boys tossing a football in the field, bare chested and tan, hitching up their too long and too big shorts as they try to outdo each other with the perfect throw or the perfect catch, showing off for the pretty teen girls riding by too slowly on their shiny ten speed bikes pretending not to notice … This is my idea of a perfect summer day. Tell me yours.

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