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I'll Bring the Matches

Mila is apparently going to spend all of her time telling me about how it should be summer by now and why isn't it summer by now? I mean, COME ON. When is it going to be summer?

It has a little to do with the dance camp she's eagerly anticipating, but it's more about the weather.

I don't know exactly why Mila has decided cold weather is a form of torture, but here we are. Every day that she has to wear a coat is a day that Mila tells me about how dumb it is that it's cold outside. It's quickly becoming the most exhausting conversation we have, mostly because I CAN'T CONTROL THE WEATHER, MILA. If I could, it wouldn't have been below freezing while I was in Houston earlier this week. Because that? THAT IS DUMB. If I'm going to Houston, which is one of my least favorite places, I at least should get some hot weather. Not warm. Hot. Bake me, please.

Alas. It was cold and then I returned to Pittsburgh where it was colder.

This morning as I was dragging Miserable Mila to the car, she was giving me an earful about the cold. It needs to be warm now, you guys. Is it summer yet? Summer needs to start now. Oh, and did you notice the snow on the ground? BECAUSE MILA DID.

I spent the entire drive to daycare listening to Mila talk about the snow and all of the things she wants to do to it. The highlights included,

- "It should only snow for Christmas. Christmas is over, so the snow should be over."

- "It's March. We can't have snow in March."

- "Mom, can we set the snow on fire?"

Mila is getting no arguments from me. I'll even bring the matches.



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