Dear Spring,
I motherf*cking love you, bae. I am so glad you came. That bitch ass Polar Vortex was overstaying his welcome and you hadn’t RSVP’ed yet, so I figured you weren’t going to show up to the cuddle party yesterday. But then you did! Everyone was like, “Grrrrrrl, you look GOOD.” They were like, “Are you pregnant because you are positively radiant, boo boo.” Spring, the party doesn’t start until YOU walk in.
I feel like that isn’t said enough and maybe you’ve been feeling under-appreciated. Maybe you’ve even felt insulted by global warming and our lack of precaution that either results in your invitations being sent out too soon or not at all. Please, baby girl, I’m sorry. We luh u, boo. We want you for those wonderful three months. We don’t want you any sooner and we don’t want to jump into the aggravating, humidity of your rebellious twin sister, Summer too quickly.
Spring, maybe you need more convincing? Perhaps, I should name all the things you contribute to us Deciduous dwellers.
Your not too hot, not too cold stance on weather means I can wear all my cute leather jackets. And I have so many.
Your sunny days keep me energized, pumped, so I am more active and thus, when Summer comes along, I look good in dem shorts.
You bring the best seasonal fruits and ripe avocados into my heart.
Speaking of food, I am less inclined to eat poorly because I just want a “light lunch.”
I can dine outdoors when you’re around.
Those Spring cocktails are impeccably made.
Your roof parties are the most memorable.
I am sure you know your affect on flowers and foliage and I don’t mind the allergies they produce.
Thank you, Spring. You keep it real. Luv u, bitch.
