wishing for spring, and a citrus tart
“Why can’t it be summer?”
My six-year-old asks me this question nearly every weekend these days. He has asked it since at least November, when we started making him wear long pants instead of the shorts he favors.
“Because it is not,” I tell him. “Be patient.”
He is not satisfied with my answer, and he harrumphs and stomps off. I don’t blame him. It’s a crappy answer, though a true one.
As I was finishing my morning cup of coffee yesterday, the kids reminded me that it was Groundhog Day. Madeline speculated on whether the cute little groundhog would see his shadow or not, and Oliver wished loudly that it would JUST BE SPRING ALREADY.
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