letter to summer

Dear Summer:

I think you can tell that I am mad at you. Things just haven't been the same between us for awhile.

First there was June, in which you wouldn't stop raining and refused to let the sun shine. I blame you for all my plant problems this year. You have given me nothing but diseased leaves and hordes of gray beetles every where I look. I don't even like to look at my plants anymore. You even killed my zuchinni plant which I previously assumed was impossible.

And then there was July, in which you turned my angelic offspring into Jerry Springer Talk Show participants. All I heard was fighting and tattling. You did this. Never again will I trust you to provide endless hours of entertainment for my children. Never again.

And do we really need to talk about August? I thought we were going to work things out when you got me nice and tan in Arizona. But then you decided to masquerade as Fall for a few weeks. I shivered and wore hoodies, all the while stuffing my resentment in hopes we could work things out.

But I have news for you. The kids are back in school, my house is back in order,  and I've found someone new. His name is Fall.

I think we should just be friends. Keep in touch and stay sweet.

Until next year,

Rachel