Bare food living. I don't wear shoes anywhere anymore. I guess I'm just really embracing my Tennessee stereotype. Ain't no thang.
Scratching mosquito bites. I know I shouldn't. But the momentary relief that comes from leaving red scratches on my arms and legs is 100% worth it. Ahhh relief.
Wearing a sock in my hair. Yep.
Windows down at night. With my hand out the window. Bouncing to the country music on the radio.
Sam jumping on the pogo stick 863 times.
"Barefoot Blue Jean Night" being the official song of the summer. As declared by me. Insert this song on repeat here.
And packing for the beach. Okay, I haven't actually started this one yet. But we are going. Tomorrow. Fist pumps for way to many Crawfords and one sweet Irish girl all staying in a house together!
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