Holy sweet mother of Jebus I look like I have leg acne.
The mosquitoes are brutal this year.
Brutal I tell you! I would take a picture of how bad my legs looks but 1) I am afraid to shave because I have so many scabs and 2) I can’t find my camera.
This leads me to say something I never thought I would say. Ever.
I can’t wait until it gets cold out.
I know I will regret that the second it starts snowing and I’ll start whining about how I grew up in Florida and how thin my blood is. I will probably also complain that I don’t have any snow boots and sweaters take up way more room in the washing machine forcing me to do twice as many loads of laundry each week. (Which ought to bring my wash total to three hundred loads a week.*)
So yeah, I said it. I am looking forward to fall for one reason only. Less bugs.
Well, and obviously football. And chili. And school starting, and hockey games with Nancy, and it won’t matter if I don’t shave because I will wear long pants every day, and I we won’t have to mow the lawn as often and stew.
Wait a second. Do I like cold? Am I naturalizing into a northerner?
(I realize I was born in Ohio and hence have embraced the “Yankee” label my whole life. And yes, I know Virginia is technically the south, but if I have to get stuck in Beltway traffic four times a week I am claiming my residence as the DC suburbs. Plus, it snows here. )
Or is this just something that happens at the end of ever summer to everybody?
* Not how many loads I actually do, but how many loads of dirty clothes the four of us make in a week.