Nothing screams summer like a little Slip-n-Slide action.
Okay, that's not really true. You see, I grew up in Alaska, where going down a Slip-n-Slide in July would have been torture. While we lived all over Alaska, we never lived in the interior. Therefore, wherever we lived, it was close enough to the ocean for a constant cool (read: chilly) breeze. I could be 82 degrees out, and I'd be sitting in a T-shirt…then the moment a bit of a breeze would kick up, I'd be covered in goose bumps. I hate goose bumps.
Did I ever tell you the first place I went when I left home was Hawaii? That I was attending the University of Hawaii Hilo? That there was a fellow student with hair that touched the ground? That the only other Caucasian person living in our apartment building did all of his laundry (in the shared laundry room) in nothing but a towel? A very low riding towel that I was always terrified was going to slip off? Hmm….well now I have. And since I'm on my second cup of coffee and feeling generous, I'll send a little care package to anyone who can guess what I majored in.
But you see, I'm making sure my children grow up somewhere warm enough to Slip-n-Slide. Somewhere where the wading pool water will actually heat up if you leave it in the sun.
Someday they'll thank me for that.