I love Spring time, I really really do. I love smelling the flowers and seeing them bloom again after a long winter. Running outside compares to no other exercise when the sun is warm but there’s a slight cool breeze keeping your endurance up. Eating melty ice cream tastes better even if you have to keep licking your hand to stave the drip. A fresh seafood picnic with the scent of the beach lingering and the sun shining in from the windows promises the cusp of summer. Just being outside, playing basketball with my brother, walking with my mom, cutting down trees (ok watching someone else cut down trees because let’s be real) with family and neighbors, and then enjoying a cold, crisp glass of champagne sangria with my sister, is divine.
Spring appears to have a love-hate relationship with me. My allergies are killing it this year and I have constant raccoon eyes due to the intolerable itchiness. Every so often, I struggle to breathe and can’t keep the window open above my head because my nose clogs and runs. My skirt might have blown up over my head in the wind, and even though my family’s (and my own) first inclination is to laugh so hard that we can’t see straight never mind fix the situation, my sister eventually got a hand on it and minimized the damage. My mom aspirated on a sprinkle laughing so hard, but I just wanted her to get a good ab workout in on Mother’s Day, so you’re welcome.
I’ll take it though, every part of it, so long as you promise that the only shovel I have to pick up within the next five months is to build sand castles.