I kind of dread Labor Day. It was always the last day the pool was open, slamming the door on summer. It gets me down. No more carefree, lazy days, at least not until next June (that’s FOREVER away).
And the end of summer does NOT mean the start of fall. It means the start of school, which slaps me in the face with hard evidence that my kids are growing up, even though I keep telling them not to. Little One just started first grade. How did that happen?
Really, school is not THAT bad, and fall IS pretty nice (even if it’s not summer). There’s pumpkin bread, and the state fair, and Halloween. And it’s a great time for hiking and camping. We’ll have lots of fun this fall. We always do.
But even though I KNOW this stuff,
I still feel blue about saying goodbye to the ice cream truck, fireflies, and the smell of sunscreen.