We All Need Our Quiet Time

Remember when you were a kid, how fun summer used to be?

I remember I just couldn’t wait for the months of June, July and August.

I rode my bike, attended sports camp, beat up my younger brother and sister and tried to drive mom and dad nuts because, well, they’re mom and dad.

And though I was usually ready to go back to school at the end of June because three months is just too much spare time for a kid, looking back on it, half the fun of summer was the joy of awaiting its arrival.

However, summer wasn’t always what it was cracked up to be. Or what we belived it would be.

It seemed like most of the friends I really wanted to see were the ones who lived at least five major intersections away from my house.

And I wasn’t allowed to ride my bike off the cul-de-sac, so paying them a visit was out of the question unless I could get a ride from mom or dad.

Mostly I stayed on the street playing with a bunch of kids who typically didn’t have the same interests as I did.

Summer was also a popular time to have family get-togethers.

It was a hoot going to the homes of my cousins — all about my age — to rifle through their toy boxes with the hope of finding some cool stuff, which I would then ask my dad to get me for Christmas.

But I also remember at the end of some of those long, hot days, the exhausted look on the faces of all the adults.

All they did was talk about a bunch of adult stuff that didn’t seem very interesting. They didn’t have reason to be tired, right?

Wrong.

Now, since becoming an adult (at least legally), I see why they were so dang-blasted tired all the time.

See, I now affectionately refer to my family as the “Amoeba.” When we’re together we sometimes tend to act like those little microscopic, one-celled animals who engulf food as we move from one locale to the next.

It takes a lot to overcome us. Sometimes, when we go to restaurants, mild-mannered types are overwhelmed. But we don’t care. We’re so caught up in our own revelry, the heck with anyone else.

But for the most part, we Amoebites are a lovable lot. We help each other, we depend on each other and we love each other.

However, as most of us know, love can be very exhausting.

Many in our ranks got married this year (gotta’ keep multiplying, ya know). We’ve been to more weddings and receptions this summer than Liz Taylor.

And there were the summer holidays and a host of birthdays.

The drawback sometimes was that our togetherness generated a lot of tension. It was frustrating, because at its heart, the Amoeba only wants the best for itself.

Yet, it sometimes struggles when those within the unit want a little space.

It is a loving and caring organism, but many times it only looks to serve its own emotional interests. And sadly, sometimes, when those interests aren’t met, the tension thickens.

I love the Amoeba, but we’re all going to have to realize that even though we are all one family, sometimes, a little time to ourselves doesn’t hurt.

Because after all, the harder you squeeze an Amoeba, the easier it slips out of your hands.