Bada bing! Ding ding!
There’s something in the air that’s making us want to ditch our coats and roll around in fields of lavender and lilies; something that’s making us want to sit cross legged among stalks of wildflowers despite a very real threat of ticks finding their way toward our hoo-has. We want to weave daisy chains until our fingers fall off and make crowns from marigolds to put them in our hair like it’s SF, summer of 1969. Or Coachella. Hair bugs be damned!
There’s something making us want to run around outside naked in galoshes, hopping from lamp post to lamp post while singing in the rain, and that very same something is giving us this weird craving for sporadic, choreographed public dance as though we’re all classically trained dancers in a late ’90s teen movie.
It’s possible that this “something” has to do with the fact that the tequila diet has been extended (hair of the dog ifyaknowwhatImean), but really, I think it’s that we’ve finally shaken out winter’s residual effects and are truly, deeply embracing SPRING.
And what’s better on a Saturday morning when we’ve got this little extra umph in our step than a slideshow of floral beauties and a really fantastic shower song?
Nothing, little blue bird. Nothing at all.