The season of damp and grit...

Well, it's about 95 degrees here in Boston and that means that my least favorite time of year has arrived.

It is this weather that sends my children outside to splash happily in the pool and then walk with wet feet through the yard and into the house. Once inside they wander about the house, removing wet bathing suits and leaving sandy footprints everywhere.

I hate it.

I hate the heat. The hate the humidity. I hate the feel of sand and dirt throughout the house. When the dogs are outside they need to be kept wet or else they overheat, so periodically I find damp puddles of grit from where they came in and slept.

Did I mention the laundry? Lily goes outside and swims. Then she plays in the sandpit for a while and gets completely disgusting. She removes her bathing suit and announces that she is done swimming. An hour later she appears in a fresh bathing suit and begins the process anew.

Then there's the sunscreen ritual. On the face, but not in the eyes! Don't forget the hairline! Missed a spot! Mommy!

Though they have not yet appeared, I am certain that another harbinger of summer is planning its invasion. Yes, the beast of which I speak is the fruit fly.  Those vile swarms which defile my bananas are no small nuisance.

Of course, the fruit fly is not nearly so bad as the baby flies that I have been killing around the house. Remember that dead bird which was in the vent that David didn't take care of because he went to dance class? Well, the maggots which were living in it are all grown up and looking for rot. They've been buzzing stupidly about the house while I chase them around with Lily's red patent leather shoe. I've killed at least twenty.

Did I mention that the dog threw up all over one of the few rugs we have? And there are piles of dog fur everywhere? And that my mother is due in town in this afternoon so that she can be a witness to it all??????????

Please send chocolate and late September. I'll be hiding in bed with the air conditioner blasting.