In the story of our life, the story I write in my head for the days stretching far out into the expanse of our future, the hubby and I move our children to a neighborhood deep in the south. We live in a freshly painted home the color of a melon with perwinkle gingerbread accents and pure white trim. There is a white fence out front and a porch with a cushioned swing which hums itself back and forth on steamy summer nights.
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Fireflies flit themselves through treelined streets as the children run barefoot, shouting “Olly Olly Oxen Free” to hidden neighbor friends. Parents are perched on porches, leaning on picket fences, fanning themselves with folded sheets of newspaper with one hand while the other hand curls around a cool glass of lemonade. The husbands are in khaki pants and blue, collared shirts. The wives wear ringlet curls and polka-dot dresses.
We sigh at the summer heat. We sip our glasses filled with sweet, lemony nectar. We wave at the sunkissed children playing in the twinkling twilight. We tip our heads toward each other, eyes shining with the light of fireflies and the heat of passion.
Ahhh, life in the South. Won’t that be the loveliest?
And, if you live in the South, don’t you dare tell me this isn’t exactly what your summer’s are like. I’d have a really hard time considering my future without fireflies and lemonade and polka-dot dresses.
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Though, I might be willing to settle for a cold glass of lemonade on a sunny Colorado afternoon while John tends to the lawn and the kids chase the chihuahua. Yep, I could definitely go for that instead.
Gourmet Lemonade Syrup Concentrate
Pure Fruit Icecubes
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