I was at the park with my family this morning, and as my 4-year-old and I were walking back to the car hand-in-hand, the newly brown leaves crunching under our shoes, he said gleefully, referring to the sound, “It’s a happy day to break leaves, Mommy!”
And oh my gosh, kid, I thought as a warm flush spread from my heart all the way to my face, where my mouth broke into a huge smile as I swooped down and scooped him up, you are so right.
I love fall, and I don’t care how cliché anyone thinks that sounds. I mentioned my love of the season to a friend last weekend as we sat on her porch, drinking a pumpkin beer on a chilly Saturday night, and she groaned.
She actually groaned, as if my ability to find joy in things hurt her physically. And then she said this: “You and every other white girl wearing a sweater and sipping Starbucks.”
Um, first off, if we’re going to talk clichés, let’s talk about the one you just used, asshole. Because I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that snarky meme floating around on Facebook, too. But I just ignore it, because I’m not going to let them steal my crisp fall sunshine.
Secondly, I can’t speak for the Starbucks thing because I haven’t written their corporate office to find out their white-to-black customer ratio. But I’m fairly certain that some black people like fall, too? And maybe even people of other ethnicities? Like, the love of fall isn’t just exclusive to white people?
But I didn’t have the desire to get into all of that with her. Actually, I just make a rule for myself to not expend energy on stupid conflicts. So instead, I just said, “Don’t you try to rain on my fcking parade, asshole, because I won’t allow it. You just sit back and go on your little tirades about sweaters and Starbucks and white people while I’m over here being happy. DICK.”
Seriously, you guys, I fcking love fall. I’m generally a really happy person (Can’t you tell?^^), but when fall comes around with its cool air and colorful, falling leaves and hoodies (and yes, SWEATERS) and cute jeans and scarves and boots and pumpkin patches and Halloween costumes and seasonal beers and its perfectly crisp (I know I've already used that adjective once, but it's simply the best one to describe that feeling) sunny days and sidewalks and the scent of weenie roasts in the air, my heart almost bursts with joy.
And then I say a quick prayer of gratitude (Thank You, God. Thank You so much for all of it) as I look at my boys and my husband and think—Could it possibly get any better than this??
Nope. It can’t.
Happy gorgeous Saturday, everyone!!