Dear Winter . . .

Dear Winter,

I am not one who usually feels entitled but I feel like you owe me a shovel and a manicure. Of course, you would pick the one day of the winter that I cannot find my gloves to dump several inches of snow behind my car. No one could find the shovel – only a snow broom. A snow broom.


You did this several times. I assume that you thought it was funny. You were probably in hysterics when you saw the snow plow push the snow right back into the driveway – twice. Oh Winter, you have a sick sense of humor.

Why the manicure? I would like to have nice nails for flipping off the snow plow driver if he comes around again. I also have a sick sense of humor.

Those snow plow drivers they mean well. They are just doing their job and work long hours. But for the love of Pete, why does it seem like they make extra work? Is it just me?

I just want you to know that I did not break the shovel on purpose. I don’t even remember how or when it broke.


So if you could just send me a shovel and maybe a gift certificate to a nice salon, that would be great. We both know that you owe me.

I’ll be over here looking for my gloves and waiting on that manicure.


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I could be the worst cook in America. My boyfriend tells his friends about my cooking disasters. I'm glad someone is amused. I like movies, music, comic books and corny jokes.

3 thoughts on “Dear Winter . . .

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