A pointless weekend? I’m down with that
It’s got me nostalgic, actually, because number three just received his certificate of completion at a ceremony at the elementary school, and it’s off to junior high for him. The last few weeks, I just keep thinking, “If it weren’t for Baby Gabey coming along, we would be graduating our last kiddo right out those doors.”
I did have to laugh. On the way in, Oldest Son said something like, “The trick is on them. They’re thinking they’re done with the last of us, and in a couple of years, here comes another one!” This, as the “other one” trotted in happily, wearing his little bitty Clifford the Big Red Dog backpack.
So now it’s time for a “pointless” weekend. Time to garden and weed and plant. Time to rake the hayfield that’s our yard. Time to have our first campfire of the season. Time to sit beside it and watch the kids jump on the tramp and listen to the bullfrogs croaking in the neighbor’s pond. Time to turn off the computer and forget there are doctors somewhere seeing patients and generating work for me.
Hey, a girl can hope, can’t she?
Here’s to your own “pointless” weekends. I hope you have them this summer. A lot.