I get it. I totally, totally get it. You want to be heard, just like the rest of us. I understand that. I want you to be heard, too. I believe we all should have a voice. And I also know that you want us to know how tough you are. You want us to know that you are as tough as nails. And you are! You are the toughest season we know! But the thing is, you've bossed us around since November and your turn is over. It's April now. It's Spring's turn, babe.
I know, you're not going down without a fight. And I respect that. You shouldn't go down without a fight. No one should. And I hate to be the one to tell you this but we don't want you here anymore. You are not wanted. I know that sounds harsh but you haven't been a very good listener this year. You've ignored our gentle pleas and our subtle hints and you've forced me to get serious. And, trust me, I am quite serious.
Let's start with yesterday. Yesterday was unacceptable. It was colder than usual which at first I was willing to forgive. But then you had to throw that enormous temper tantrum (very immature of you, by the way) and you started with the lightning and the thunder and the hail storm that sounded like we were in the inside of a popcorn popper. That was too much. What were you thinking? Did you know that our school had just finished planting all of our seeds and starts in the garden? Did you know that? It was quite nervy of you to say the least. And you probably had a good laugh at Perry and me as we waited inside for the hail to pass. You probably got outside there would be a solid, white blanket of ice over everything. Did you think it was funny when our car almost didn't make it up the hill on our way to piano? You must have had a really good laugh at the guy in the pick-up truck who really didn't make it up the hill and was stopping traffic for miles. We were late because of him! And time is money, man! That was a really dirty trick.
Now, I can see the look on your face, Winter,. You're about to tell me how much worse you are in other places, and how when you were young you had to "walk ten miles to school in snow that was waist deep and you didn't have shoes" or whatever, but cold is cold and I haven't been warm in five months. Five long months. And have you noticed that I'm not even talking about the rain? That I'm not even going to bring it up? I know now that you are totally inflexible on the subject. Yes, I've learned my lesson. See how reasonable I'm being?
Oh, and one last thing before you go (because you are going, remember?), how come we don't get any of those teaser warm days in February and March anymore? Every year, like clockwork, no matter how tough the weather was or wasn't, we'd get those glorious sunny, summery days for just a tiny bit. They always came at the right time in the right amount—just enough to get us through. Where have those days been? Maybe we would like you better if you brought them back once in a while. Just a thought.
That's all for now. Let's just do a little bit better from here on out, okay?
