Saturday, August 20, 2011


I climbed the porch steps negotiating around two girls sitting smack in the middle of them shucking corn, grinning.

"We got crab and shrimp and corn and drumsticks and donuts!"  they cried.

"Sounds like Daddy went to the store" I said.  "He always gets the good stuff."

The little things never get old for them.  Bare feet.  The pleasure of long evenings, doing things differently sometimes, the way only Daddy can do them.  The summer comes to a close, school starts soon and they know the ambivalence of being eager for it to begin and so sorry to see summer go.

I am right there with them.  Every year.

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