summer

The other day, I had a to-do list that was a mile long. Working, I've discovered, can really cut into your productive time.

When I got home, I went upstairs, changed my clothes and got ready to get some things done, starting with a few long overdue emails. As I neared the computer, I spotted Lilly, head in hands.

"What's up?" I asked, half looking at her and three-quarters looking at the computer.

"Nothing," she said. "Just the most boring summer...EVER!" Mind you, it was only the first full day of summer vacation.

"That's no fun," I said, trying to sound the least bit sympathetic. "What would make it better?"

"If we could DO something," she moaned.

"Like...." I said, finally turning to look at her.

"I don't know," she mumbled just as a great, big, giant teardrop slid down her cheek, leaving a little trail through the dirt and smearing my mental to-do list.

"How 'bout," I said, in a rather uncharacteristic display of spontaneity, "we play some tennis. At the high school?" Which, really, was a stupid question. Because, asking Lilly to do something with me that does not involve a shopping cart or a vacuum cleaner is like asking a dog if he wants to go for a ride. And offering to play tennis with her, on a public court, is like throwing a t-bone steak in the car first.

"Yeah," she said, brightening. So, while I went upstairs to change my clothes, again, she packed the car complete with tennis racquets, tennis balls and water bottles.

When we got to the courts they were fairly empty which was a good thing since one court is just not big enough for me. Or Lilly. When we got tired of chasing the balls around, we started stuffing them in our shorts to see who looked sillier (me) and drank water out of a tiny hole in the bottom of one of our bottles to see who could get more(Lilly). And we pretended to be really good players with a lightning fast serve. And we laughed. More than anything, we laughed.

On the way home I thought: this was way better than email.

This is summer.

30--no make that 27--lunches to go

I have taken to counting down the school year not in days or weeks but in lunches.

"Only thirty more lunches to pack," I told my daughter at breakfast today.

That's:
15 bagels (5 with cream cheese and 10 with butter)
4 cartons of juice boxes
2 giant boxes of Goldfish crackers, rainbow
2 quarts of strawberries, cut
4 boxes of Special K bars
10 Odwalla bars

"Won't you make lunch for us over the summer," Lilly asked, doe-eyed, at the bus stop.

"Nope," I said. They don't call it summer vacation for nuthin'.