The Dog Days Are Over.

Summertime is a peculiar, beautiful thing. It is the time for driving fast with windows down and music blaring, acoustic guitars, tambourines, hot pinks and baby blues, vibrant yellows and lemonades and cantaloupe and hot dogs, flip-flops and She and Him, Colbie Caillat and Bob Marley and Sheryl Crow and Sixpence None the Richer. Summertime is for dancing and laughing and lazy days by the pool, Gabriel García Marquéz and late night bonfires on the beach.

 

It is in summertime that our youth is most celebrated, no matter our age.

 

This summer has been filled with all the right things that a summer should have:

 

 

The beach (Look at our three umbrella-friends! What a cute trio!),

 

 

Theme parks,

 

 

Flavored water (A delicious peach-lime water, to be exact.),

 

 

Chicken salad,

 

 

Sunglasses,

 

 

Flip-flops,

 

 

Jorts,

 

 

Birthday parties,

 

 

Concerts,

 

 

Weddings,

 

 

Strawberry Daiquiris,

 

 

Pirates (I didn’t tell you this story? Another time, I suppose.),

 

 

Planking (Or at least trying. I won’t show you the state of these sculpted bushes shortly after my planking attempt.),

 

 

Dancing,

 

 

Mexican Food,

 

 

And, of course, Katy Perry. 🙂

 

But alas, the dog days of summer have come to an end as fall approaches with all of its wonders. I have loved this magical summer in the sun, but I have learned in life never to despise the changing of the seasons. And so it is with joy that I put away my flip-flops and flavored water and get out my kicks and Diet Dr. Pepper that my mom says will give me a brain tumor but I still drink because it makes me feel better about myself. I just ask one thing:

 

Let me wear my jorts a few days longer?

 

It IS Florida, after all.

 

OKAY OKAY MOM I’LL SWITCH TO TEA,

 

Isaac.