August is the New October

Excerpt from latest book

Happy Thursday. I hope this blog finds you in good spirits. As August spirals closer to September, I thought it would be the perfect time to share a little story from my latest book, We’re All Just Doing Our Best.

Summer offers many perks. Late May brings the excitement of school ending and summer break. June ushers in water balloon fights and wonderfully long days where it stays light until nearly 10:00 PM. And who doesn’t love a breathtaking Fourth of July fireworks show? Summer is great. It’s filled with barbeques, pool parties, and family vacations.

Yet, once August rolls around, the summer season has lost its magic a bit. August isn’t as exciting as June or July. It also pales in comparison to September, when football season kicks off. And certainly, August can’t stack up against the hoopla of Halloween festivities in October.

August is a strange month. The calendar seems to hover in limbo. Time freezes. The days seem to get hotter and hotter until a person is presented with two options. Either continue partaking in outdoor festivities and melt into a puddle of sweat, or stay inside where it’s cool and pretend you’re not missing out on the fun.

August is also the time of year when children are getting ready to start a new school year. Youngsters who love school are feeling excited and anxious. Children who hate school are feeling dreadful and anxious. Either way, a child is feeling anxious. Like books in a backpack, they carry this anxiety around with them for a couple of weeks in August leading up to the beginning of school.

Last year, my daughter began the school year in the third week of August. Thankfully, she enjoys school. So, after a few days, she was adjusted to the new rhythm of third grade. By this point, we were honestly sick and tired of summer. The heat was relentless, and the humidity was stifling. We prayed for the reprieve fall would bring. We longed for crisp evenings, caramel apples, and hayrack rides. Sure, coffee shops were already advertising pumpkin-spiced everything. Yet, the 105-degree temperatures were a cruel reminder that it wasn’t autumn yet.

The two of us decided we needed a morale booster. We ventured to a home goods store in triple-digit temperatures and ransacked the fall décor section. It was a smash-and-grab operation, and no expense was spared. We bought ceramic haunted houses for our glow-in-the-dark Halloween village. We grabbed some plastic skeletons and pumpkin decorations. We snagged a few haybales for the front porch. We even purchased little scarecrows and artificial orange leaves to hang on railings. I tossed a couple of fall-scented candles in our cart – one called Maple Pumpkin Butter and another titled Hot Apple Cider.

Just when I thought our cart was at full capacity, something caught my eye. Standing before us in all its glory was a twelve-foot-tall Grim Reaper. He was inflatable and came with a built-in fan and ground tethers. I looked at my daughter. Her mouth was hanging open in disbelief. I glanced back up at the hooded skeleton. He seemed to have a look on his face that implied, “Come on, you know you want me. You can’t leave here without me.”

Turns out, he was right. Sky was practically on her knees by this point, begging me to get the behemoth monster. She even offered to chip in fifty bucks of her own money to purchase the inflatable, which was roughly half the total cost.

“Where did you get fifty dollars from?” I asked.

“It’s money from my birthday party,” she said.

It was a sobering reminder of how much times have changed. Fifty bucks. Just for turning eight years old. The birthday party had been a few months prior, so I couldn’t recall how she acquired that much cold, hard cash. Children these days have no idea how spoiled they are. Had someone given me ten dollars at that age, I would have felt like a millionaire.

Of course, the going rate for losing a tooth in the 1980s was a shiny quarter. But twenty-five cents doesn’t get you very far in today’s world. Nowadays, I’ve heard rumors the Tooth Fairy is slipping five bucks under kids’ pillows. Hell, I know a kid who scored a Starbucks gift card from the Tooth Fairy. It’s ridiculous. Then again, I suppose that’s job security for the Tooth Fairy. If she’s encouraging children to drink sugar-filled lattes, it’s only a matter of time before more teeth fall out.

Standing there beneath the inflatable Grim Reaper, Sky assured me she was good for the fifty bucks. She didn’t have the cash with her, but she offered me a pinky promise to repay me as soon as possible. So, in aisle number seven, the pinky promise was solidified. From a child’s perspective, a pinky promise is sacred. In fact, it might be legally binding in all fifty states. From my perspective, I figured it would be a good lesson for Sky to keep her word and follow through on a promise.

Once home, we decorated our house while listening to Halloween music. Outside, it was hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk. But in our hearts, it was already fall. By evening time, it looked like a pumpkin patch had thrown up all over our home. Was it a bit too soon? Admittedly, yes, but it was our silly way of manifesting a shift in the seasons with wishful thinking. Nowadays, a family must do whatever it can to infuse a little joy into a given day.

As for the commercial side of holidays, it’s reached a frenzied level in recent years. Our consumer culture has caused retailers to start selling seasonal items far in advance of the upcoming holiday. I’m pretty sure back-to-school items begin appearing on shelves in late June. Valentine’s Day candy is on full display immediately after Christmas. And the Christmas season officially begins the day after Halloween.

Last year, on Halloween night, I was walking along with Sky as she was trick-or-treating. We came upon a house that was completely decked out in Christmas décor. The house had red and green lights on the roof, a wreath on the door, glowing candy canes lining the driveway, and a manger in the side yard complete with a plastic baby Jesus.

My first instinct was to temporarily “borrow” Jesus and replace him with a jack-o-lantern from the house next door. Then, I could have swapped out the three wise men with a Franken-stein, a vampire, and a scarecrow, which I could have easily “borrowed” from anywhere on the block. I would have loved to see the look on the homeowner’s face the following day.

In the end, I didn’t do it. After all, most houses nowadays are equipped with motion-activated cameras. No doubt, I would have gotten caught in the act. Of all the nights, I would hate to be arrested on Halloween. I’d probably end up locked in a jail cell with a clown who was detained for attempted burglary or a mummy with a blood-alcohol level that’s off the charts.

Regarding the Christmas house on Halloween night, I’ve concluded there are three possible reasons a family would overlap two drastically different holidays. Explanation #1 – they’re a “Jesus is the reason for the season” type of family, and therefore, they boycott Halloween and all its occult undertones for religious reasons. Explanation #2 – the family has a wonderful sense of humor and wants to get a chuckle out of trick-or-treaters. Explanation #3 – the family likes Halloween, but they love Christmas and couldn’t help but decorate a tad early… much like I decorated for fall in late August.

I’ll never know. But we’re now the proud owners of a twelve-foot-tall inflatable Grim Reaper. He’s holding a sickle, and he’s essentially a skeleton wearing a dark robe with a hood. His name is Skelly, and he glows in the dark. Is it a little too much? Sure it is. In my defense, though, we refrained from displaying Skelly until the last week of September. This year, Skelly became a big brother. During back-to-school week, we purchased an inflatable pumpkin roughly twenty feet in diameter. We named him Gordon (the gourd.)

As for the fifty dollars Sky promised me for Skelly last year, I didn’t see that money until after Thanksgiving. Truth be told, it was partially my fault. Like Sky, I got lost in the season’s magic, and money became an afterthought. When she finally coughed up the fifty bucks, I explained the concept of interest and how it applies to late payments.

Not surprisingly, Sky grasped the concept. She’s a sharp young lady. But she’s also cunning and quite persuasive. So, instead of paying me the sixty dollars she now owed me, Sky proposed an alternative – a plea bargain of sorts. Instead of giving me ten extra dollars for interest, she offered me a hug and wanted to take me out for ice cream. I gladly accepted. Ice cream and quality time with my daughter? It was a no-brainer.

It was a chilly day in late November, but the ice cream place was already serving seasonal flavors related to Valentine’s Day. Or maybe it was St. Patrick’s Day ice cream. I guess I can’t remember. My brain is still foggy from the heat wave back in August.

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If you liked this story, you might enjoy the other chapters from We’re All Just Doing Our Best. You can find it via my website or on Amazon.

And yes, we’ve already decorated for fall here at the Myers Manor (too soon?) Here’s a picture from our living room.

Until next time, I’ll be here dreaming of colorful leaves, bonfires, hayrack rides, and the sound of college football marching bands. Bring on the pumpkin spice everything!

Over and out,

Andy