admire those who do not give their children sweets or whose organic, all-natural Trader Joe’s lollipops are the only candy allowed in the pantry, I do. But if I’m really honest, I also love that, after a trip to the library (in which Sophie picked out five princess books, the boys squealed much too loudly at the gerbil running in its wheel and all three kids tried on different hats for 10 minutes) we went to our local candy store, The Candy Cottage. I love that each child picked out a candy necklace and wore it home. I love that I’m sitting here, listening to that classic crunch as they bite a candy bead off. I love seeing the wet string against their neck and remembering how deliciously wonderful that felt when I was a little girl. I love seeing the joy in their faces as they walk around our porch and inside our house, absolutely delighted in the fact that they are wearing a necklace made out of candy and can eat it wherever they go.
It’s summer. Who knows. Maybe I’ll let them stay up way past their bedtime tonight, to catch fireflies, too.
Some rules, I think, can and should be (occasionally) broken.
“Then followed that beautiful season … Summer ….
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.” —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
