My Summer Vacation

You might think that with six days off, as in, six days of co-parenting because Saint Aardvark has had six days off, I might have found more time to write here.

What have we done. We have gone to the Fabulous PNE. Twice. We took Trombone last Wednesday and spent 90 minutes using up his attention span and good graces and then headed for the exits. One train ride, one giant tub of popcorn, the ketchup-y part of a hamburger and a deep fried Oreo were all we had to supply to keep sir happy. His favourite part was the Toon Town Parade, for which we were front row – look waaaay up at the giant Thomas the Tank Engine float, it’s smiling at you. Trombone danced and cheered and exclaimed so that I hardly had time to be cynical about the people dressed as Care Bears dancing down the road.

Did I mention the deep fried Oreo. I did? OK.

Saint Aardvark and I went back the to the Fabulous PNE just the two of us last night, for a date, because it is tradition. We drank $7 cups of beer and walked against the crowds and saw Chilliwack play three songs and actually stayed up until 10:30 PM to see the show stopper ROLLING THUNDER, a country-music themed pyrotechnic spectacular holy shit. We arrived home at 11:30, drunk on freedom as much as the modest quantities of alcohol, hit the hay at close to midnight and were, of course, woken by our rude children at 3:30 (for milk) and 6:15 (for kicks) and thus another day began.

Tonight it is September eve and one more day of vacation remains. The cold evening air is pouring in the window next to me. August – what August? July – what July? These months a blurry background for my sharp, too-real days.

For some reason, I am excited about September. The prospect of it feels like an exhale after a long, held breath. I feel September will have structure, measure, is this because it is Back To School month and 18 years of Back To School have conditioned me so? Or is it because I can feel my feet beneath me again 4 days out of 7 and that is both a majority and an improvement.

I am not so excited that I’m going to stay up till midnight and ring in a new month. I’m not that crazy. Just crazy enough to say Happy September and mean it.