It’s hot here. We live in the water and on the grass. We run through sunblock spray and juice boxes and seven avocados in two days. We can’t stop eating Cotija cheese and guacamole.
Our heels are hardened and our skin is burned and carries the scent of sunblock and sweat. We have picnics every day but the kitchen still gets sticky from strawberries.
We spill bubble juice and Popsicle juice and chalk outlines the accidents on the back porch. We watch ants go marching and I fret about ladybugs, beetles and snails: the trifecta of garden terrorists.
We hardly wear pants.
It’s all dazzling heat and sunshine. Life is glowing beneath the blue waters and the COTIJA ADDICTION.
We fall in love with dishwashers and shiny spoons. It’s the little things.
We are all worn out a little by this and that, the heat of life beating us down. I fling open my front door and welcome in tired friends, fellow mommies with burdens and burp cloths. I’m tired too, and we clutch our coffee cups and head for the sun.
I take them outside and together we drown our sorrows in jasmine and chlorine.
Life is hard, life is beautiful.
“In summer, the song sings itself.” -William Carlos Williams