As school begins, kids are encouraged to share what they did on their summer vacation. This is a snippet of what I would write as a mom:
“The end of summer flitted down before our eyes, drifting lazily like a leaf falling to the ground, dancing in the wind. It was our last weekend in a series of three spent with my mom and sisters in the sunny Okanagan and we were determined to squeeze the very last drops of summer out.”
This sense of urgency led to a whirlwind of activity upon our arrival to my mom’s place. My son eagerly filled us in on his ambitious to do list:
- Get food from the peach on the beach
- Go to the market
- Play bumper boats
- See Nana (great-grandma)
- Go bowling
Our first item was a bust. Unfortunately, it was closed, so there would be no food from the peach on the beach. There were tears over that, but we distracted him with bowling. He tried out both ten-pin and five-pin and soon became our unofficial cheering section. “YOU CAN DO IT!” he cheered, adding evenly, “No pressure, though.” He was so excited, even though he didn’t win. He insisted he needed a necklace from the vending machine to remember the occasion. We went out for dinner and he was so well behaved, charming the server with his resounding endorsement of the food. “Just like they made it in my childhood!” he nodded seriously, pretending to be a teeny tiny food critic. He finally crashed around midnight and slept very late.
We took him to the market in Summerland, where he insisted on eating crocodile. He loved it so much he insisted we buy crocodile steaks to take home and decided on his new career path: crocodile hunter. He decided that he would kill his first crocodile and use its skin as a coat to intimidate the others. I scored a pretty dress I can’t wait to wear. We proceeded to the bumper boats, where he managed to soak me when I took his picture, giggling maniacally all the way.
Finally, we went back for the last nana visit of his Penticton trip – three weeks with my mom seeing his great grandma every day. He was a joyful bundle of laughter, delighting in her company until it was time for us to drive home, plotting the whole way how we might engineer our lives to move there and live in resort town paradise.
So that’s how I spent the last of my summer vacation. I’m a little jealous of my little dude returning to school, with his backpack of fresh stationary, and hopes and dreams for the new school year. As for me, I’ll be daydreaming about our summer adventures and watching the leaves flit to the ground as the autumn sets in.