The shot of summer late this week reminded everyone of two things: first, Dad’s rules on using the air conditioning and second, summer Dad camp is not that far away.

This year was the first where we didn’t sign up them up for camps and then tell them where they were going. We let them choose. This might have been a mistake. Turns out most kids have no idea how to make a decision.

What seems obvious to us, dinner, wardrobe, book to read next. Is an almost existential crises for them. How can they pick a summer camp when they can’t pick a cereal?

Turns out I vastly underestimating the amount of skill and experience in making decisions. Sure, most of the decisions we make as an adult mean nothing. Pick something and move on. But to kids it can be almost paralyzing. At least my kids.

This will be the summer of choice. Perhaps empowerment. Perhaps regret. But they will choose. They will learn. Life is a series of decisions. They will be prepared.

It was hot yesterday. Even at 7 a.m. Both us were motivated by the sun and warm temperatures to get outside and run. At least for the first 3 miles. The next three miles were more survival. Too hot, too fast.

See all those white petals. That was my sweat after the run.

Even Ally ditched her morning puppy and blanket routine (but not the galaxy cozy) for her couch breakfast. Sadly, she did not skip her date with overbearing Disney characters.

Never mind the kids, Michelle and I (okay, mostly Michelle) have an endless array of decisions to make for this planned kitchen renovation. Top knobs, cabinet grooves, tile, fixtures. It’s a crash course in decision making.

Interesting lesson in line item accounting. Somehow, no matter what we cut or compromise on, the costs remain stable.

You’d think I would have learned my lesson on the morning run but due to dominoes night and a brunch tomorrow, I was on the hook for a number of baked goods, so after cooling down, I turned the oven on for the next four hours.

Ricotta chocolate chips cake, plus cookies ‘n cream cookies, and mixed berry muffins.

I like any excuse to break out the springform pan. Or use ricotta in desserts.

Spa sisters Saturday. And it was a rare occurrence where they didn’t end up arguing over the result. If Cece opens her own salon one day she’ll have lots of experience handling challenging customers thanks to Ally. Ally can’t make a decision but she knows how she wants her hair.

Wouldn’t be a Saturday without some new nails.

Lest you think I force Michelle to do all the outside labor. I did patch up the lawn and finally wheelbarrowed away the last of the mulch pile.

Also, Michelle has already declared, after a few very busy weeks has kept her out of her construction clothes, that next weekend is Transfer Station weekend.

We are emptying out the basement and garage of the accumulated pandemic glut. Get ready for a lot of pictures of dusty boxes and back corners of the Transfer Station next week! Where do exersaucers go? How about NiCad batteries? Propane tanks? We’ll find out together!

They used to be so small. I realize this is an orthopedist’s nightmare but they all later emerged with no broken bones.

The rest of the day was spent making more decisions. Which app to eat? Which tile to play? When to meet next? When exactly did Tom Cochrane’s Life as a Highway debut?

Everyday choices. Some easier than others.