Hey. Hi, there. Do you like the springtime? I bet you do. I bet you love sunny days where the snow melts away. You love seeing that emerald blush upon the lawns of our fair city. You love tulips. You love tree buds. You love sucking the Sweet Smells of Spring straight up your frickin’ nostrils.

Well, this is not for you.

This one’s for all you awesome people out there who are fed up with Spring and the people who LOVE it. This one’s for the people bold enough to declare, “You know what? Spring kinda blows. It’s just not my thing.”

I am here today to join your dissent. I don’t like Spring, either, and I’m tired of pretending I do. Just add it to the pile of historically beloved stuff I’m supposed to like but do not. Like Sundays, Dunkin’ Donuts, the music of Willie Nelson, and the classic depressing television show Six Feet Under.

Let’s break down exactly why it seems most people enjoy Spring and why I’m not having it.

---

Point: It’s finally warm!
Counterpoint: Is it, though?

Parts of the day are warm, yes, but when that warmth actually happens feels like a crappy crap shoot full of crap. The morning might be cold and frosty, giving way to a sunny (probably humid) afternoon, giving way to a frigid evening. Is it time to pull the old storm windows off your house or is it too early? What kind of jacket should I wear? Is it time for shorts? Literally no one knows. And what’s so bad about a nice cozy, snuggly house, anyway? Yes, there is a point at which I’m sick of the winter ice and ready for the summer sun, but can the weather just change, like, all at once? Can it be winter one day and early summer the next? Surely, we have the technology.

 

Point: Everything smells fresh and new!
Counterpoint: Does it, though?

Everything smells like a dank barnyard. I know that’s just what wet, fertile dirt smells like, but you can’t fool me into thinking it’s pleasant. I think you’re just happy to smell anything after five to eight months of frozen nose hairs. And also, maybe you didn’t realize, but all that sweet smelling air is trying to kill me. It’s chock full of razor sharp specks of pollen. See, in the springtime, plants and trees generate yellow clouds of microscopic throwing stars which fill my lungs and attack my tender eyeballs, shredding them all the hell, causing wave after wave of tears and snot. Mmmm. Smells great.

 

Point: April showers bring …
Counterpoint: … huge mud puddles.

Yes, it rains in the spring, and that’s why everything starts growing. I get it. This is a necessary evil. But along with all those well-hydrated May flowers, we get wet muddy ground, soggy boots, and water in our basements. Why can’t something dry make the garden grow? Why isn’t life-giving sunlight enough for those greedy daffodils?

 

Point: Springtime is a season of rebirth! It’s time to contemplate new beginnings!
Counterpoint: I think that’s stupid.

I have so, so very many unfinished projects. I’m no longer accepting new beginnings.

 

Point: What about all the spring holidays?
Counterpoint: What about them?

Hey, I love visiting extended family and I like eating big meals, but come on. Name one Springtime holiday able to hold a jack-o-lantern to Halloween. It’s impossible. Call me when they invent a second Christmas for late March.

 

Point: Reese’s Milk Chocolate Peanut Butter Eggs.
Counterpoint: OK, I gotta give ya that one.

Reese’s is finally catching on and creating alternate versions of the almighty Peanut Butter Egg for other seasons, but I’ll forever crave the original, peanut butter-forward confection. That’s one point for you.

If you like spring, fine. Run naked through a lush field or something. It’s your life. Me? I’ll be over here enduring it, waiting for summer, which is only, like, the second-best season, maybe.

I have some issues.