I. Hate. Summer.
I’m not really sure if this is true or not.
But once school starts wrapping up with class trips and end of the year ceremonies, I start getting a funny feeling in my stomach.
At first, I’m certain that it’s food poisoning. Or appendicitis. Or consumption.
I quickly write up a food diary, jump up and down on my right leg and then my left just to be sure, and read several Victorian novels in which fainting spells are prominently featured.
I eliminate food poisoning, appendicitis, consumption.
And then I realize that it’s June.
There are a few things that I like about summer: Farm stands. BLTs made with the season’s first local tomatoes. Ice cream cones. Sno cones. The All-Star Game. The church carnival down the street.
But what I detest, said the Grinch in her Grinchy-Grinch voice, is the fact that my schedule gets turned upside down.
For nine months out of twelve, everyone leaves in the morning and comes home later in the day. But for those other three months, the young ones just stay. They sit in their PJs. They play on their games. They want food for lunch. They want to be entertained.
At least they are older and can fend for themselves. But when you are rigid like this butch and thrive on routine, any little abnormality feels like it’s times three.
And don’t get me started about the beach and the pool. They don’t make swim clothes for this old butch fool.
Girl suits are too girly. And boy suits don’t cover up enough.
One day, I’ll deal with my body dysphoria but right now it all feels like too much.
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What about you? Do you like summer? What are your favorite summer things?