First Day...
Once upon a time, I was a boy that used to really like Winter. So much so that I can recall a time that I took my sled out in a blizzard. I didn’t get far. My mother rewarded my ambition and flat-out stupidity with a cup of hot chocolate. To this day, it was one of the best cups of hot cocoa that I ever had.
Now I’m a man who can’t let go of Summer. No matter how sticky the air gets in Northeast U.S.A., I love it. I won’t say that the post-Labor Day blues have set in. Actually, it hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be, but I still don’t like the idea of Summer drawing to an end. And although Autumn makes for a nice change of pace with its cooler temps and vibrant colors, the days are getting shorter, and Winter has Jack Frost on standby. Beyond the first snowfall of the season, I’m pretty much done with Winter for the rest of my existence.
I wish I could get excited about anything like my daughter gets excited about everything. Bubbles, seeing Sesame Street characters in person, telling the same joke for the umpteenth time and laughing like she heard it the first time…it’s like she’s life’s cheerleader or something. She’s been talking about the first day of school for weeks now. She was very excited to go back. As for me, the customer service gig just doesn’t offer the same appeal.
Last night, I asked my wife, “What’s wrong with that silly child?” She told me, “She’s four.” It must be nice to turn a year older and still have your age be the all-encompassing reason why you can act a fool anytime you get ready. I’ve been hearing that since the child could walk. “She’s two.” “Honey, she’s three.” When do I get to use that excuse?
“Why is Jason smacking himself upside the head with a phone receiver at his desk?”
“He’s 36…”
