Summer Nights

Ah, summer nights...almost as good as summer days.  

Lately, we've had the Mister home with us on the weekends a bit more than usual, and it has been AWESOME.

One of the best parts is that he's there to orchestrate some fun at just that time of day when things are usually falling apart.  You know, the post-nap nuclear meltdown hours.

We hit the courtyard for some athletics two nights in a row this weekend.  Sports of one sort or another are pretty much all the Little Guy wants to do these day.  We move from soccer to baseball to golf to jumping to football to hockey to tennis to catch to relay races...it's fun, but exhausting.

And in steps Daddy.

Thank goodness!

They have the best time together, and I have the best time watching and photographing.

And playing with my little Buddy Boy.

It's always so shocking to me that the air actually cools down in the evenings.  In Alabama, the night is pretty much just a dark version of the same sticky heat.  But up here, there is a little respite in the later hours.  Delightful!

By the way, have you tried these?  Just perfect for a summer evening spent outdoors.  In my opinion, at least.  In the Mister's opinion, a complete abomination of everything that is good about beer.

The combination of sunscreen and chlorine and heat and humidity result in quite the rooster-ish look for Buddy Boy.  Being completely unfamiliar with curls myself, I may be obsessing over his a bit.  They are just so much fun!

Did you ever see that commercial where Tiger Woods bounces the golf ball on the end of his club over and over?  Well, the Mister could give him a run for his money.  Just sayin'.

Not to be outdone in the displays of strength and coordination, Buddy Boy posed for his first standing picture!  See how proud he is?

This is the Little Guy's face as he is telling me about how "verrrry, verrry, verrrrrrry high far over the wall" he hit his ball.  And he wasn't lyin'.  When I took this picture, the Mister was off searching for the ball in the next section of the courtyard.

The boy can hit a ball.

Ah, summer nights, with the Mister at home.  Bliss.