Like the summer house we sort of had

Our tree swing should be here any day now. I can't wait to hang it in the front yard--that is, to get Max to hang it in the front yard--and spend every afternoon from now on pushing Samson, listening to his squeals of delight as I sip lemonade and feel the cool breeze on my neck. In a perfect world, this fantasy laden scene would involve fireflies, but I've never seen a firefly in the San Francisco Bay Area. The dogs will lie lazily in the sun, and I will, of course, look stunning in my "world's best mom" t-shirt. Max will come home from work, welcomed by the sounds of summertime perfection, and then we'll all go inside for pie and ice cream as the dusk moves in. And new episodes of Arrested Development and 30 Rock will be on TV every night.