Breaking up with Summer

Listen here, Summer, my relentless companion.

We need to have us a little come-to-Jesus meeting.

Back in May, you seemed all sweet and nice – with all that sunshine and long evenings.

I thought to myself then, “May this year will be different.”

But it weren’t.

Summer, you got all clingy and possessive.

You followed me everywhere I went – outside, and inside!

You turned my truck into a hot box, the yard into crispy straws, and every piece of metal outside into something that needs a potholder just to touch.

You have drained me, exhausted me.

That’s it!

I am calling it done and quits!

I would like to see other seasons.

I’ve been thinking a whole lot about Fall these last couple of weeks.

Fall’s got cool mornings, football games, open windows, and the common decency to let me sit outside with a cup of coffee without getting slow-roasted like a Thanksgiving turkey!

I’ve even caught myself getting excited about Winter.

WINTER, Summer! Look at what you have done to me!

So what do I want you ask?

I want you to go on now, pack up your mosquito swarms, your 105* merciless afternoons, your droughts, your sunburns, your sweaty mess, all of your miserableness – and get on outta here!

Oh, and that wall of hot air that smacks me in the face every time I open the front door – take it too!

Yeah, probably during some miserable February cold spell, I will think back on you with a fondness and wonder if I gave up too soon.

But I know I didn’t. You’ve been here too long, too hot, this go round.

Farewell Summer.

Don’t you dare call.

Don’t text.

And for the love of all that’s holy and good - don’t be a showing up again in October!