Dear Summer,

Here's the problem.
I'm not ready for you to go.

You know I am your girl.  I love everything about you: long days and pleasant evenings, swimming, camping, roasting marshmallows, family vacations.  Sunshine.
I love to sit in your sun, eating sherbet and reading a good book.  I love to sit in my yard, watching fireworks, listening to concerts at the park.
And although I am water-sport handicapped (WORD), I still love boating.

But summer, here's the other problem.
My husband's job has made me hate you.

He is often gone from sunup to sundown.  He leaves me for days to play in tournaments.  A few times during the summer, he pretty much lives at the golf course for days at a time.
This summer, I had a BABY and no car, so I hardly left the house at all.
I didn't get my summer fix!

And now all I have to look forward to is colder days and longer nights, family visits getting scarcer, entertainment virtually disappearing.
But also, my husband.


One day, Summer, you and I will get back together.

Pasty Legs

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