Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Summers Past

            Since it is summer, and my list of productive things to do is virtually nonexistent, I decided to tackle the cleaning out and organization of my childhood room.  I have found many amusing and sentimental things including but not limited to: a journal from when I was 11 when I mused about a family vacation to Predido Key and our 9 o’clock dinner on the first night (“NOW THAT IS LATE"…I penned), an American Girl Pages and Pockets book where my commentary is nothing short of hysterical, various photographs, and a poem I wrote titled “Summer”. 
            After reading this poem, I decided it was too entertaining not to share.  Based on my penmanship, I would guess I was somewhere around eight or nine when I wrote it, so try not to judge too hard…
In the summer you shall see
            How hot and warm it can be.
            In the morning you sleep in
            And eat breakfast in the den.

            Then you swim and play.
            “Let’s go in,” you say.

            Pizza for dinner. Yum.
            This tastes better than bubble gum.

            Can you spend the night?
            Then we can have a pillow fight.

            Go to bed,
            Sleepy Head.

            You can do it all again
            For summer has just began.

            In retrospect I think I captured my childhood summers pretty well.  Growing up in Florida with a pool in the backyard, it was more than easy for me to run in and out of the house, swimsuit still dripping wet. Really not much has changed about my summers through the years.  It is still both hot AND warm (and humid and sweltering and all the other adjectives that describe Florida's summer temperatures).  I still sleep in and eat breakfast on the couch (usually, these days, I watch the Weather Channel rather than cartoons).  I can still be found by the pool in my parents' backyard when I am lucky enough to spend my summers at home.  I still think Pizza tastes better than bubble gum, but I no longer have many Slumber Parties, unfortunately.  I guess these almost childhood-like summers are one of the perks of being a teacher, and, honestly, I don’t know that I ever want to give them up.  

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