Today, I have a fabulous guest poster. She has a massive, loyal following because her blog is seriously hilarious. She doesn’t promote herself a lot, but Sandra from Absolutely Narcissism is a heavy hitter. Her blog should really be called Absolutely Hysterical because she is blunt and wickedly funny and makes even the most mundane of topics great blog fodder.
Today, she writes a letter to summer. And I think after you read this, you’ll love Sandra as much as I do.
Dear Summer: I Love You But…
You wreak a certain havoc in my life.
You see, when you’re around, I feel this necessity to have my kids outdoors; to enjoy all that you bring: the heat, the sun, the brown skin.
But I have teenagers now. And well, they don’t like the outdoors.
They like video games.
And now they’re on this big gaming kick where they think they’re going to be the next video game pros, and they tell me, “But Mom, I can’t go out right now, I’m in the middle of a tournament.”
But I make them go outside, because I’m the mother.
And so they’re outside.
And they’re sitting on the deck chairs, and they’re brooding.
I’m trying to read my book.
But the brooding is disturbing me.
So I say, “Stop brooding. You’re disturbing me.”
They reply, “You know the sun will give us skin cancer.”
The older one will even quote statistics, “I hope you realize Mom, because I have over 50 moles on my body, I have a 50% higher chance of getting melanoma.”
And I reply, “Of course I realize that. I’m a nurse…pffftt…”
But even though I’m looking at the words on my book, I can’t concentrate, and I’m thinking, “I did notice a big-ass mole on his back earlier today. It was as big as a fricken watermelon seed.”
So I say, “You! Go get a pencil with an eraser on the end!”
And the boy is all, “Why a pencil with an eraser on the end?”
“Because in my nursing textbook, it specifically describes a suspicious mole as being bigger than the eraser on a pencil.”
And so we hunt all over the house, looking for a pencil with an eraser on the end, which, surprisingly, is extremely difficult to find because at the end of the school year, none of the kids even have any pencils left, or the pencils that they do have are broken in half, or have the erasers chewed off.
Finally though, we find a pencil with an eraser on the end.
I place the eraser against the big-ass mole, and shout, “This mole is bigger than a pencil eraser!”
So I inspect the big-ass mole more closely.
I put my face right up to it.
I analyze the edges.
Then, when I’ve gathered my courage, I touch it…
…And it falls off.
And I scream!
And my son screams!
He says, “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”
I reply, “That big-ass mole just fell off!”
My son is crying, “Eww! Gross! Why?”
I pick up the big-ass mole up gently.
Drop in my hand.
Press it between my fingers.
Dully, I reply, “It fell off because it’s a watermelon seed. It must have gotten stuck to your back at breakfast this morning.”
The boy looks at the seed, looks at me, then asks, “Can I go back to my video game?”
Yeah. Just go.
And don’t come back!
…ok, I don’t say that last part out loud.
‘Cause that would be mean since he’s recovering from watermelon seed cancer.