Hold the Humidity, Please


The robins have returned, and the calendar haughtily declares that spring started weeks ago. I have tickets to a Cubs game in a few weeks, but it wasn't until I finally broke down and bought some Claritin on Saturday afternoon that I accepted the arrival of my third-favorite season.

Truthfully? I'm already fed up with it. I want to skip past the fickle weather and the debilitating pollen and the inevitable heartbreak. Just give me seventy-five degree weather with plenty of sunshine and a steady stream of warm breezes. Give me Blues Fest and Jazz Fest and Ravinia. Let's eat outside for lunch and listen to baseball on the radio in the afternoon. Grab a book and sit with me on the porch swing. My dad will make us fresh lemonade or homemade chocolate malts. If you're not afraid of bees, you can grab some fresh raspberries from the yard to share with the dog.

Monsieur Greedypants | Flickr

I will pay $5 to the first person who can deliver summer to my doorstep. Offer ends June 21.