How to Say Goodbye to Summer
Subtitle: Let’s go out with a bang. No, literally. Because my sister is blowing shit up in the back yard. With chemicals.
Oh, and 106 days till the end of the world.
Step 1: Make sure to clear your Labor Day because this is the ideal day to have a party. Why, you may ask? Well, first, everybody and their mama is taking their MoonPie looking ass (see Beach entry) to get in one last swim before they are forced to cover themselves in real clothing again. Ergo, they are ALL gone and you will be in an empty neighborhood with your friends for these shenanigans. Secondly, school starts the next day, at least around here. Your kids are gonna wine (I mean whine, Freudian slip there) about not wanting to get up the next day. This will wear them out and you can deposit their limp unconscious bodies into the bed. Done and done.
Step 2: Disregard the weather. Because you have until 7 a.m. to cancel your inflatable rental. At 6:58 the skies are clear and it’s hot. At 7:01, it is frakkin’ pouring. Whatever. It’s a water slide; you’re gonna get wet anyway. Carry on.
Step 3: Rent a water slide. Yeah, you probably gathered that is where I was going with this. Rent a double lane racing slip and slide
and then when it arrives, have the gentleman inform you that he has no idea how in the WORLD you are going to fill the 300, yes HUNDRED, gallon splash pool with your shallow (aka NORMAL) well. Assure him that you have decided that you will not shower for a few weeks and pray for rain. NO dumbass, send that back, and get a different slide. Get THIS slide.
Much better. Yes Jack, yes hun, I have taken care of it. I am trying to clean here. No, they are setting it up right now. Stop calling.
Step 3A: WTF it is STILL RAINING.
Step 4: Oh, did I forget the cotton candy machine? Well, the delivery dude did, so I’m kinda glad that he went back to get super awesome more expensive and I didn’t have to pay extra water slide. Yeah, rent one of these because it eliminates the need for desserts and if the men will start cotton candying their arms. Which hurts. And yet they still do it. Again and again. Sober no less. Don’t ask what they try to cotton candy drunk....
Step 4A: I am not even kidding, it is STILL raining. For real. We’e screwed.
Step 5: Walk to the farmer’s stand. Well, that was the original intention because I wanted FRESH ORGANIC LOCAL tomatoes. (Yes, I am one of those people. No, I am not Adrienne Rowan, just wish to hell I was ;P ) However, once I informed my dear buddies from college of this little venture they kindly volunteered to drive me (since I’d lost my keys, go ahead Hot Roommate, laugh it up). And it went down like this:
D: Where is this stand?
Me: Down by the pond.
D: Yonder pond?
Me: Yes, yonder pond, just not that far away I promise.
J: Turn here?
Me: Yeah and a left up here.
D: We have left your road to turn onto another.
Me: Yeah, it’s right here. I could have walked.
Silence for two minutes
D: Brianne, you DO realize that we are STILL driving.
J: I was about to say that....
Me: It is only like a mile or so, I could have walked it.
D: I wouldn’t have walked 500 feet. This is too far.
Regardless, I made it to the honor system farm stand, bought my tomatoes and jalapeños (which were promptly stolen) and came home. And got rave reviews on the tomatoes thank you very much. Farm stand win.
Step 5A: IT STOPPED RAINING. PARTY ON WAYNE!!
Step 6: Let your sister blow shit up. She’s 17, she won’t kill anyone and after all your mother is endorsing this. Have Hot Roommate sugar up children properly and send them, cotton candy in hand, to stand on the back stoop to watch this event. Ignore entire event as you are helping Hot Roommate straighten up. Hear loud insane “We’re gonna get arrested” type bangs (remember that video, I was having flashbacks) and worry that your neighbor is going to come traipsing through the woods to ask you if it was a good idea. It wasn’t. Sister returned looking at her arm. Minor chemical burns, she says. Because things like this are just normal in the Adams’ household.
Step 7: Discuss insurance. Yeah, we’re old, and instead of taking Jello shots we’re sitting around, sipping beers, and discussing deductibles. Mine is pretty sucky apparently. Oh well, least I don’t get sick very much.
Step 8: Eat two hamburgers, with jalapeños and salsa (jarred jalapeños because your friend has STOLEN the fresh ones). Add a hot dog. And some deviled eggs. And chips. And four Mexican beers. And a shot of Absolut Pepper. Multiply by HOT PINK COTTON CANDY X 10ⁿ. Keri, I think I’m gonna puke. Keri: I can see it now, and the bathroom will smell of pink cotton candy and shame. SHAME....
Step 9: Don’t forget the photographic evidence. Take pictures of each and every adult friend who comes down that slide, with or without their children, in their regular CLOTHES no less. Oh, and take video of yourself going down the slide to post on YouTube, because that is really getting to be like your blog, just video silliness. (Why in the hell not, it’s fun to laugh at crazy folks, I accept what I am). Because you’re gonna want to remember when your husband and friend’s hubby pours the beer ice onto the slide. And you were stuck. In ice water. With kids piled onto you. Or not.... Wait, you put that on Facebook??? Oh dear Athena...
Step 10: Spanish wine, right? Hell no, don’t you people realize that I was IN a wedding, as the MATRON of honor no less, had a new niece born, am STILL not over hugging Shanks, and my kids start school for the first time EVER tomorrow. No, you’ll get Mexican beer and like it. Because it’s good. Very good. Got excited that Mr. Canadian Hot Pants tweeted that he tried a Dos Equis. Good boy. Now, just bring your fine little self down here and this Spanish teacher will be happy to teach you all about the wonder that is Mexican beer. I’ll keep a few cold for ya.