In a summer swelter

The title seemed familiar, so I searched my blogchives.  Yup.  June 19, 2010, fifteen years ago to the day, I published a post with this exact title.  All that to say, I'm obviously out of ideas.

Either way, it fits.  Though summer hasn't quite officially started, it's been here for weeks.  No part of June should have ever been considered spring anyway.  Besides that, my other title ideas -- "Helter Skelter" and "The birds flew off with a fallout shelter" -- just didn't make much sense.  

One of the best things my wife has implemented this summer (or ever) is having the kids do twenty minutes of reading every day.  She calls it free reading time.  I call it peace, sweet peace. 

This led to the kids going to the library.  Luke wanted to check out a book that his second grade teacher had read to them from this year.  Unbeknownst to us, the book had been banned in Alabama for anyone under 18.

As I began to research, I found that the original complaint about the book was that the main character - a tree -- had both male and female flowers.  (As many trees are wont to have, if you believe the fake news, or you know, science.)

The only thing I could infer from this is that the clear goal of this book is to indoctrinate children.  There is also a little Muslim girl in the book who experiences bullying, but I'm sure that had nothing to do with the restriction.  

Indeed, the book seemed to be fraught with pernicious themes of acceptance, diversity, and kindness.  Think, "Lennon read a book of (Cultural) Marx(ism)."  So Mrs. B promptly bought it online for Luke.  We're all about indoctrination around here.

This all made me really thankful for Luke's teacher, and teachers in general.  We put a lot on them, what with the active shooter drills and fighting fascism and what not.  Sometimes it seems they may be our last, best hope.

For Father's Day, Mrs. Bone booked a room in Muscle Shoals, kids in tow.  She allowed me to come along, as well.  The interior of the hotel had been remodeled since we were last there, highlighting even more the town's prolific music history.

As usual, the pool and poolside bar were a huge hit.  Though the slide was closed a couple of times for no apparent reason.  While closed the second time, I saw Harper and some other little girl sneak under the rope and slide down.  It was one of those I-should-probably-get-on-to-her-but-I-was-kind-of-proud-so-I-didn't moments.  (Sticking with the theme: "I saw the kids laughing with delight, the day... they closed... the slide.")

The evening ended with Mrs. B having an old fashioned delivered to the room for me.  A perfect ending to a perfect Father's Day.

Well, almost.

For "In the sheets, the children screamed.  Their mother sighed as their father dreamed..."

Hope to be here in fifteen more years for another sweltering summer post.  Of course by then, my children will likely be annoyingly kind and accepting young adults.  Perhaps I shall use the coming decade and a half to see how I could work in "Eight miles high and fading fast" as a title.  

Or who knows, maybe even come up with an original idea of my own.  

Yeah, that'll be the day!