jumping the gun
Here we go again with the Alabama weather, brought to you by torture me now. Every year I happen to forget that we live in the South where it shall take a congressional hearing every morning to determine if we wear shorts or jeans.
Quick example. When I took the dog out at 6:30 wearing Caleb’s boxers and t-shirt it was 53 degrees and I FROZE. Thus we headed out to run errands at 9:30 dressed in jeans and long sleeve shirts. By the time we left the mall at 11:30 it was 81 degrees and between the food court door and the car door we melted into little fall-prepped puddles on the asphalt.
Jackson looks around and goes “What’s going on here? I thought you said it was Winter?”
“It was. This morning.”
It’s so unbelievably hard not to jump the gun this year. This is the first time in my life I’ve actually thought I’d be fine with bypassing Fall altogether. I’m ready for Thanksgiving. Set for New Years. Desperate for January 15th.
I almost bought a Christmas ornament today. Someone stop me now.