SPRING

ME:  Grammy, you changed your curtains!

GRAMMY:  Yep.  Took down the heavy winter drapes and put up the spring curtains.

ME:  But it’s February, Grammy.  We won’t see Spring until at least mid-April.

GRAMMY:  Yeah?  Tell that to the birds.  The damn things have been waking me up every morning for the past ten days.  Twitter, twittery, tweep.  The damn things never shut up.

ME:  And that made you change the curtains?

GRAMMY:  If the birds are back, Barbara, Spring isn’t far behind.

ME:  Not according to the groundhog.  He saw his shadow.  That means six more weeks of winter.

GRAMMY:  News flash, Barbara.  If it’s sunny, he sees his shadow.  If it’s cloudy, he doesn’t.  And you know what?  He’s never really told anyone what he sees.  In case you haven’t noticed, groundhogs don’t talk.

ME:  No, but people interpret what he sees.

GRAMMY:  Yeah. Stupid politicians looking for a photo-op.  You don’t see Stephen Hawking hanging around the gopher hole, do you?

ME:  It’s not a gopher, Grammy. It’s a groundhog.

GRAMMY:  And that makes a difference?  (sigh)  She can’t believe in God, but a weather-predicting groundhog is perfectly acceptable.  Lord, take me now.

Photo:  Source