Don’t get me wrong, Houston doesn’t know fall starts tomorrow. Our highs are still in the 90s. But the lows! In the 70s! Typical of coastal city citizens the world over, my kids pulled out their jackets last night. Any hint of a breeze that’s not sweatered in humidity, and they celebrate by assessing their mitten collections. Or maybe that’s kids everywhere. There’s something about a weather change that makes them antsy, and squirmy, and prone to strewing large amounts of something (hoodies in this case) around the house.
No, probably just these kids.
However the kids did not celebrate when I told them we would be closing the pool soon. Maybe today. My surgeon had a strict no-swimming-after-a-c-section rule so I haven’t been in the pool for a couple months. This definitely shortened our swimming-pool season. And the end was coming too quickly.
Even while celebrating the cooler weather, they knew what closing the pool meant. No more leisurely afternoons with buckets and leaves, making “soup.” No more dinners of smoothies by the pool. No more piling on daddy and using him as their personal life raft.
They dawdled and played in the water until almost seven last night. Which was nice. Because now we enter the season when the pool is just one giant leaf-catcher. Through the fall and winter, when M. is outside cleaning that, and I’m inside picking up all those hoodies, I’ll remember our last day of summer.
I’m already looking forward to next swimming-pool season.
