Last night, I found myself at Cracker Barrel.  There was a situation that necessitated me waiting ... in among all their gift shop stuff.

I was hot -- my classroom was ridiculously hot ... like the furnaces of hell hot.  I had a raging headache because my room was hot -- like the furnaces of hell hot.  So, I stood, out of the way, waiting quietly, in my own little world of swirling visions of crayons and pencils and other such crap dancing in my head.

And so there I was, standing there among all this STUFF clicking and cackling and making a racket, and all of a sudden I focused on what it was, and y'all ...


It was Halloween crap ... and fall candles ... and orange and red leaves and stuff.


It's July.  Granted, July is a bit long in the tooth at this point, but still.  We're in JULY.  Not September or October.  JULY.


Now, when I was in kindergarten, I learned about the seasons.  There are four of them.  Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter.  Last time I checked, July falls into the SUMMER category.  You know the one ... where every thing is all red, white, and blue and patriotic and stuff?

Where, pray tell, do black cats, cackling witches, and pumpkin spice candles fall into Patriotic????

It's bad enough that I just realized in a few short days, I will have to start answering: "I'm sorry.  I can't.  It's a school night."

Now you want me to think about fall in summer??   And Christmas?  I hear Christmas is out at different locales.

Wait a ding dang minute!  I am STILL not over the trauma that was Snowmageddon 1 and 2.  Please.  Please, for the love of all that is good and decent in this world, allow me the remainder of my summer.

I beg of you ...


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