He wants to eat summer.
Like so much ice cream, running down his forearms and dripping off his fingers. He wants to lick up every last drop and then ask for more.
This second born of mine only has one speed. And it’s fast and furious and can leave a mother and father and two sets of cousins and aunts and uncles all tired and worn out in his wake.
We’re on the edge of the lake in Northern Michigan where my husband’s family have been spending their summers for decades. Literally. Same lake, same bike trails, same little minnows trying to avoid the nets of boys like they have for so many summers in a row.
We’ve got two days of car travel to erase and Micah is ready to get the process started at 7am the first morning.
And while vacations bring rest from all the routine that we need a break from, vacations also mean that we’re parenting without the routine that can bring everyone rest.