Dear Summer, never leave. Not ever. Not ever, ever.
Here is a photo of some watermelon and some blue skies and some red nails. Isn’t it nice? I love summer.
You know what comes after summer?* Fall!
I also love fall** because the days are crisp and lovely and the leaves change spectacularly–especially around here, where we get “Peepers” who come to drive slowly down our country roads and point at the leaves.
Chrysanthemums are the flower of fall, and that brings me to what I really wanted to say here:
SCENE: Garden Center, surrounded by potted mums.
Sister (points to a pot of mums): Hey Alex, I thought you said those were chrysanthemums?
Me: They are.
Sister: But it says they’re mums.
Me: Look Claire, I don’t want to have to tell you what I’m about to tell you, but they’re the same–
Sister: –Never mind. Never mind. I just got it. We don’t need to discuss it.
*Summer, do not take this as permission for you to leave, thank you.
** But not enough to wish that summer would leave. Do not leave.