Ah, to be a kid in the summertime.
Kick the can. The ice cream man. Wiffle Ball. Zinc oxide. Fireflies.
I have nothing but golden memories of summer vacation.
When I was really young, family loaded into the brown, wood-panelled Cutlass Cruiser station wagon, and travelled 561 miles to Lake Vermillion, Minnesota where we would fish, water ski, swim, and picnic.
Later, as a teenager, summer vacation came to mean Rehoboth Beach, Delaware: boogie boarding, body surfing, and endless hours at the arcade.
For Ethan and Edward, summer vacation means a trip to Grandma and Grandpa’s in Stone Harbor, New Jersey. They’re keeping the dream alive for all of us. The very sight of them makes me smile, and long for sand between my toes.