I’m on the back deck, Glass of ice cold water on the table, my feet up on a chair next to me, and the kids playing on the slip and slide.  Mr. Incredible is at work, and I’m enjoying the peace and quiet that is our yard.

Yeah, what planet do I live on?

There is a chorus of neighborhood dogs that are barking (for no apparent reason) for once it is not JC the dog right next to us (NoSammyNo is sleeping inside.)  The kids are yelling and screaming (you know those high shrill shrieks?  Yeah, I hate them too), and I have issued the “FINAL WARNING!” if they can’t play nice, then they are going to take rests in their rooms until supper.  The whole neighborhood doesn’t need to hear them!  And up the street we have kids setting off bottle rockets, and small firecrackers, I’m guessing it’s the preachers’ kids up the street – just because the smoke is coming from their driveway, I know they are home, and I can hear the daughter.  But I’m not going to report them.  I’ll let someone else ruin their fun – What?  You’ve never lit illegal fireworks when you were 17?  Am I the only one?

I’m working on my sunburn as we speak (I’d say tan, but you’d know I was lying.)  I’ve covered myself in sunscreen so I can spend 30 minutes on the deck.  Sad but true.

And just like that – the fun is over, they have ripped the slip n slide.  Repairable? I doubt it.  It was on clearance for $18 – and they’ve gotten $18 worth of fun out of it, just frustrating that they’ve used it twice, and now it’s done.  The end is almost torn in two, and they have split the seams at the bumpers as well.  UGH!  Why can’t the fun ever happen when Mr I is home?