It is that time of year when an middle-aged man’s thoughts turn to his daily loratadine dose and the relief that it brings from that feeling that someone stuffed a burdock in each of his tear ducts and opened up a fire hose at the top of each of his nostrils and scrubbed his corneas with steel wool.
Ah, spring. I love you, I hate you, I love you, I hate you, she’s my daughter, she’s my sister…uh, what now?
Anyway, to celebrate, we’re headed into DC for the kite festival today, which is just downwind of the Cherry Blossom Festival. Pray for my sinuses. It’s due to be almost 40 degrees out so we’ll leave either when Mama and I are too cold or when 3B has finally had enough of flying shiny things (read: we’ll be hospitalized for hypothermia by 2 p.m.).
Last year, we had a wonderful time on a beautiful day with some good friends. We’ll be without those friends this year–they moved to China–but we should still have a good time, especially with all the wind coming in with this cold front.