It occurred to me the other day why I like Winter more than I do Spring. Its really very simple:
Men are from Winter, Women are from Spring
Ok, so its cheesy as a Stuffed crust pizza. Its as true a statement as has ever been uttered. If you doubt me, just examine the facts before us.
Winter means shoveling snow with oversized, steel handled shovels.
Spring means squatting in a corner garden area with a tiny, plastic handled shovel that fits in the palm of your hand.
Winter means bundling up in heavy wool overcoats and braving the elements.
Spring means wearing floral cotton tops and shorts and frolicking about in the gardenias.
Winter means holidays like Halloween and stories of Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman (Halloween is a worthless holiday, Iíll give you that. You have to admit though, riding a horse while headless carries a high degree of difficulty.)
Spring means holidays like Easter. The celebration of the resurrection of our Lord and Savior. Unfortunately, the heathen counterpart to the creator of Halloween also made it a holiday in which a fluffy-tailed bunny rabbit dressed in baby blue overalls hides pastel colored boiled eggs in the tall grass for small children to locate. (Most of them anyway. Usually the push mower finds the rest of them about three days after they have officially become oval stink bombs.)
Winter means romantic nights by a roaring fire with the one you love. (Hey, we men have our impractical side too. Life canít always be about hunting the remote, hoping the Jets find a quarterback and avoiding household repair jobs)
Spring means packing a picnic basket and sitting under a willow tree by a cool stream in the warm mid-day breeze holding hands and losing yourselves in each others eyes. (Which is, by no coincidence I am certain, about as far away from the fridge and the T.V. as you can get. Contrary to popular belief, the Ingalls lived in the woods because they HAD to!)
I guess maybe Iím being a little too sensitive. I mean, there are a few good things about Spring I guess. For one thing, thereís fishing. I love the sport of fishing. What better way to say to someone you love: ďIíll get out of your way while you do your spring cleaning. Please try to have supper on the table when I arrive back home approximately 20 minutes after sundown, so as to avert any actual yard work that might be deemed necessary.Ē
Oh, and the other thing I love about Spring isÖ Sorry. My mistake. There wasnít anything else. Just fishing. I think Iíll head down to the basement and sort through my tackle box. It may be cold out there now, but its only four months til Spring. See ya on the creek bank.
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