Farewell to thee, dear summer!

I am always so conflicted at this time of year.  I love the crisp fall air and the colorful leaves and the pumpkins and the mums.

But it is a bittersweet hello because I do not relish saying good-bye to summer — well, to most of it anyway.  There is not much I dislike about summer.

I love the heat.

I love the lazy schedule.

I love the colorful flowers and the singing of the birds.

I love being able to go running before everyone else wakes up, and it’s light outside.

I love going out without bundling up first.

I love telling the kids to go hop in the car, without waiting 20 minutes for them to don their winter apparel.

I love flip flops.

And tank tops.

I love that it is light until 9pm at night and that the sun greets me when I wake up at 5:30am.

But there are two things I do not like about summer:

FLIES and IRONING.

The flies should be self-explanatory.  But what does ironing have to do with summer, you ask?

Well, I’ll tell you.

Little girls’ dresses.

And I have two of them — little girls, that is.  And they each have at least 10 summer dresses with various degrees of wrinkling tendencies.

This, I will not miss: