Gah, I love summer. Tonight I've done several things that make me feel like I'm 9 years old in Kingfisher, Oklahoma.
1) In the house, Grant and I hear loud noises. We go into the backyard and can't see the fireworks. When we decide to jump on the trampoline for awhile, we climb on, and SEE THEM exploding in the sky. This feels like the time Jennifer Stuteville, who lived a few houses down, and I figured out that we could see each other from our respective backyards if we jumped high enough on our "tramps."
2) On the trampoline, Grant jumps me so high I pee a little in my pants. I tell him with the condition that he MUST NOT LAUGH or make fun of me. He doesn't.
3) I get out of breath from doing back handsprings.
4) It's dark. We lay, bodies going opposite directions, with only our heads next to each other and look at the stars and think we could sleep outside. We talk about sleeping on trampolines, and how it is great, until you wake up at dawn slightly wet. During sleepovers, we used to get on the trampoline (or once, memorably, on a blanket on my front lawn) and sleep until we got dewy.
5) My feet are covered in black smudges, and I will crawl in bed with them still there.