I’m going to start this post with an honest confession: During the summers I can be extremely and destructively lazy. See, I made up my mind that I would conjure up a list of all these things I have to do, like finish up a bunch of scripts for Heels’ hungry editors, but June is literally over tomorrow, and our 5th year anniversary fast-approaching, and I haven’t lifted a finger. At least, for the sake of my mental health, I need to get outside of this house.
When I was a kid, it was so much easier to get me out. If my overactive father wanted to go out, all he had to do was come and lift me away from my beloved stack of Beverly Cleary novels.
I remember one time when I was eight, he dragged the entire family out to the beach with an inflatable boat and a pair of plastic oars. He almost set the kids off, rowing away to Switzerland until a lifeguard, who spied a conspicuous Southeast Asian man attempting to push a bunch of innocent children into the Pacific ocean, hoisted himself down from his high perch and lumbered forward in the nick of time.
Lifeguard (brows clouded with consternation): You really can’t do that. It’s dangerous.
Mimi Papa (crouching into his usual posture of repentance): Oh, I did not know. I just keep them here to take picture, OK?
Under the watchful gaze of the lifeguard, he went and pulled the inflatable boat back safely onto shore, while my mother, cradling my second younger brother in her arms, looked sadly amused.
This summer I plan on doing something just as wild. Like I said, our 5th year anni will be here in another thirty days, and I want to end it with a bang. Seriously, I do. Don’t you believe me? Just, uh, give me some time to finish reading the rest of Elizabeth Gaskell’s Wives and Daughters, OK?…
Some really touching chapters. I’d have more to say but, really… /defeated by the heat