The Loincloth Manifesto

Summer is dead! Long live the fall!
The collective sigh of relief you hear all around you is simply nature grabbing a lawn chair, kicking back with a pumpkin spice latte, and chilling with it's bad self.
It is also really really excited to watch football.
And for everyone to go back to school(sorry Emily:)).
Tis true,
Tis true,
Summer is gone.
We had to let it go to make room for another.
Sorry June. It's not you, it's us. We're just going in different directions.
Bye-Bye July. We'll always have the memories...the aquarium...um...and that thing, with the guy and the cookie buffet...no, wait, that was a dream i had...huh.
Fare thee well, August. You always try so hard to become part of autumn.
August.
Autumn.
Your names are so similar, and yet...it just wouldn't be fair. What would I tell the others? It would only create jealousy and infighting, the likes of which we haven't seen since King David took a walk on his rooftop(you see what I did there, bible study? Believe.)
So there you go summer. You are out on your tushy. But it was not without ceremony...
The troyer's said goodbye with a jungle-themed dinner party. Those present were treated to many sights(Aiden in a loin cloth), sounds(the jungle cry of his father, trying to scare the poop out of his nephew and niece), and not least of all tastes(two words for you...BAKED...ALASKA...mmmm.)
mmmm is not a word smarty pantses.
If you haven't had it before, allow me to describe:
Imagine monkey brains.
Now imagine that the monkey has a lemon meringue skull.
Now imagine inside his(or her) skull is filled not with blood and grey matter, but sponge cake, ice cream, and crushed cookie crumbs.
There you have it.
The worst way to entice you to eat baked alaska.
But seriously.
Do it.
Also, if you have a baby...
and a loin cloth...
seriously.
Do it.