Wednesday can only mean one thing

If it’s Wednesday, that can only mean one thing.  We’re going to Wild Waves.

I’m getting a little sick of Wild Waves.  Really.  The last time we went, Zooma Falls tried to drown me.  Alas, I am buoyant.  I cannot be drowned.

The teenagers won’t go unless forced.  So, it’ll just be my 11-year old and my 6-year old and me.  And far fewer people than last week when it was as hot as the surface of the sun.  In fact, the high temperate is only supposed to be 78 degrees, so it might be a tad chilly.

By Tuesdays, I always think, hey, tomorrow I can _________________ (fill in with whatever chore needs attention most).  And then I think, oh wait, it’ll be Wednesday and I’m going to Wild Waves.  Originally, I thought we could do other fun family activities on Wednesdays, too, but no.  Just Wild Waves.

Although, one of these weeks, we’re going to Mt. Rainier.

School’s coming.  All too soon and not soon enough.

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