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: