I'm sure we are but moments away from some of your relations calling to ask why they haven't received an Easter picture. When that happens, I'm going to put you on the phone so you can explain to them that EVERY DAY SINCE THE DAWN OF TIME, OUR YARD HAS LOOKED LIKE THIS:
It's hard to slap on a sundress and head outside for a photo op when IT'S SNOWING FOR THE UMPTEEN THOUSANDTH TIME THIS YEAR.
Does the weather drive me to drink? Yes. Does it keep you and your dad from going outside to play soccer? No.
When you guys eventually have to check me into the loony bin, be sure to attach a copy of this blog to my admittance paperwork, so at least the staff will know that my insanity is justified. I would prefer that you admit me to a nice facility in Alabama or Georgia*, so the nurses can shake their heads and say, "Well, she ought never to 'a been there in the first place. Bless her heart." Also, they probably serve really good banana pudding at a place like that.
A hair away from completely bonkers,
Mom
*But not Mississippi. Those people are just backward.
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