Summer Has Jumped the Shark (Week)

Da……….dum, da………dum, da……..dum, da…….dum, da……dum, da…..dum, da….dum, da…dum, da..dum, da.dum, DAAAAAAAAHHHHH!

Did I feel it?  Was I paying attention?  Do I remember what I was doing when I first felt that this summer could be O-V-E-R, dead and gone as far as I was concerned?

No, no and odds are either standing in the neighborhood pool making sure nobody was dropping a deuce near me or sitting inside my air-conditioned house because it was so hot I couldn’t even contemplate stepping outside to walk down to said pool (the pool water is now hovering near a lovely ninety degrees – refreshing!).  But I don’t really remember.  I just know that it has definitely happened.

I am sick of the unrelenting, unholy heat that qualifies it as child endangerment to send your kids outside even just to get the mail, let alone to play outside all day (you can drink from the hose and pee in the bushes!).  I am sick of my kids being in the house all day, every day.  I am sick of hearing them bicker with one another.  I am sick of hearing loud crashes, having a mini-heart attack, then hearing a (not really) reassuring “I’m/ He’s OK!”  I am sick of the middle-of-the-night thunderstorms that wake everybody in the house up with their thrashing winds and window-rattling thunder and bone-jarring lightning strikes, yet they don’t even cool anything off the next day.  I am sick of stepping on teeny, tiny Lego pieces that have been strewn about my house for months now.  I am sick of washing bathing suits and pool towels (well, let me be honest – I stopped washing towels around mid-July), and I am especially sick of trying to put those tiny little liners back into bikini tops after they fall out every single wash.  I am sick of reruns on TV, I am no longer friends with Netflix, I haven’t been able to find a great new book, and I am even a little bit sick of the internet.

Bruce: Hello. My name is Bruce. Anchor, Chum: Hello, Bruce. Bruce: It has been three weeks since my last fish, on my honor, or may I be chopped up and made into soup.

Then I stumbled upon Discovery Channel’s Shark Week Top 10 Shark Attack videos.  This stuff is SICK!  I mean I am scared to death to watch and have to pretend it is not real, yet I can’t stop looking at the ocean train wreck/ shark porn that is unfolding before my eyes.  Even the reenactments are realistic and as frightening as my imagination can handle.  Being a girl who loves the beach and ventures out into the waves on a regular basis, I have to know that there is always the possibility that a shark could be out there looking around for some num nums.  I just figure that it’s not going to happen to me.

According to the Top 10 Shark Attack videos, neither did those people.  Well, except the guys who jump into the water in aluminum cages simply because sharks are there and they want to film them/ study them/ get penciled into their dance cards.  I mean, thanks for all of the great up-close, color pictures of humans being shark brunch and all, but who does that?  Those dudes are loco.

I am simply amazed that people get back into the waters in those locations where shark attacks are prevalent.  I was really surprised to learn that the United States leads the world in shark attacks, with 36 in 2010.  Australia (which I would have guessed was the leader) only had 14 and South Africa had eight.  After looking into the numbers in more detail, I have decided that I will never go into Florida’s waters ever, ever again.  But I really didn’t like Florida all that much to begin with.

So I’m counting down the days until that big yellow bus pulls up to my driveway (one of the perks of having so many kids is that the bus stop unofficially relocated to our house).  Today marks eleven.  I can do anything for eleven more days, right?  I can put up with my kids as they are fighting and whining and circling around me, seemingly ready to attack at any minute.  I can even refrain from punching them in the nose (because that’s what I’d do if they were actual sharks).

Yep, Summer 2011 is almost over.  Then comes Fall, with school and alarm clocks and schedules and activities and sports and homework and projects and da……….dum, da………dum, da……..dum, da…….dum, da……dum, da…..dum, da….dum, da…dum, da..dum, da.dum, DAAAAAAAAHHHHH!

Wish me luck for tomorrow…

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