I always have high expectations for the longest day of the year.
Expectation: After a long day of hiking, Tyson and I will snuggle on a blanket and watch the sun set while picking our future kids’ names. He will think my stories are hilarious, and lying so close to the grass will not make me itchy at all. After the sun sets, we will pick up our blanket and walk back to the car while holding hands. I will say, “We should do this more often” and mean it.
Reality: The sun hurts my eyes, the pollen in the air makes me sneeze, it’s either too hot or too cold, and it’s too bright for me to be able to see the screen on my phone.
After a nap that left me feeling more cranky than refreshed, Tyson finally convinced me to leave the house around 8:30 on Friday night. We had some old bread in the fridge, and Tyson wanted to go feed the ducks at the park.
I almost felt like Blair Waldorf as I got out of the car and walked towards the birds, Western Family bread in hand. Except Blair would never wear one of Chuck’s hoodies, mostly because Chuck Bass would probably not own a hoodie. I guess that makes Tyson my Dorota? I don’t know, my Gossip Girl references have gotten sloppy lately.
Either way, the ducks were being super gluttonous, so our stale bread was gone in a few minutes.
I’ve always thought that summer was kind of overrated, but I’m looking forward to this one. We have a trip to California planned, I have a birthday to celebrate, and my husband has a job (!). I don’t even mind that the days are getting shorter as long as I get to spend them with
my Chuck/Dorota (Chuckorota?) Tyson. Happy Summer, everyone!