Well, it’s that time of year again. The time of year you start hearing people talk about their “summer do-do lists.” Which is to say, you start hearing a lot of people complain that it’s already the middle of August and there was so much they were hoping to do this summer. People find themselves full of anxiety. They start cramming stuff into their weekends. The Saturday and Sunday columns on their calendars become a mess of scrawled notes and false hope. People freak out a little.

But not everyone. Some people just make peace with the passage of yet another summer, and are content with knowing that, while their summer to-do list is still pretty full, they’ve been having a really good time. And some other people just don’t care to begin with and simply continue watching TV, seeing if they can go a full 14 hours only watching syndicated runs of Scrubs, Two and a Half Men, and How I Met Your Mother. (It’s possible, I swear!) 

I, too, feel the anxiety that now oozes from beneath the Door of Summer as it begins to slam shut and other poorly worded metaphors. But when I really sit down (to watch an episode of Scrubs) and think about what I was hoping to do this summer, well ... my list is really lame. 

It’s mostly full of dumb home repair tasks and stupid, mundane yard duties like “edging.” I think my awesome summer fun gland has severe blockage. Most people want to go picnicking or kayaking or freaking skydiving. I’m not a picnicking/skydiving sort of guy. I’m more of a “let’s sit on the porch with a beer and, you know ... see what happens” kind of guy.

Lucky for me, my wife is chockfull of great ideas and big dreams. And lucky for us, we have kids to entertain. This year, she made an awesome summer list with my daughter, complete with big, happy lettering and big, happy checkboxes.

Now, if I were an evil genius.* I could probably use this list to my advantage. Stick with me, here ...

First, I’d need to think up some fun stuff to do. Then, I’d need to sneak a few of these items onto the kids’ list (in the dark of night, perhaps) and hope no one notices. It would be a challenge to accurately recreate my wife’s stellar penmanship, but it might be worth it. Since the original list was made for our sweet, innocent children, the likelihood of us actually finishing everything on it is high. Could it work?

It might maybe possibly could.

Right between “Visit Olson’s ice cream” and “Ride the little train in Carson Park,” I could sneak in “Tour Wisconsin’s finest beer breweries.” Right between “See a drive-in movie” and “Pick blueberries,” I could add “Spend entire weekend in a jacuzzi.” And right between “Sleepover at Grammy’s house” and “Catch a monarch caterpillar,” I could write in “Re-watch all four seasons of Battlestar Galactica (in a jacuzzi).”  

Sure, many of my summer activity ideas might stand out a little. They aren’t exactly “group activities.” Or “kid-friendly.” Or even “summer-related.” But I bet the whole family would be so high on the crossing off of to-do list items, they wouldn’t even question why we’re suddenly at Dave’s BrewFarm slurping beer samples. We’d be whacked-out on summer productivity!

OK, now I’m thinking this might be too difficult to pull off. 

I’m also thinking I need to have more adult fun with my wife. I’m not knocking the kid stuff, as I’ve actually had a pretty fun summer completing that list. But you can get so busy making sure your kids’ don’t miss out on Classic Summer Experiences that you kind of forget to round out your memory collection with some non-kid ones. I’m not saying one set of memories is more important than the other, I’m just saying ... Grandma and Grandpa can pick up the kids any time, here. 

And hey, if you don’t have kids, why the hell are you reading this? Go find a rope swing.

*It should be noted that if I were, in fact, an evil genius, I probably wouldn’t tell you. Evil plans tend to run smoother when you keep your evil IQ on the down-low. Or so I’m told.