Dear Winter,

Winter,

As much as I appreciate your many wonderful qualities (such as . . . uhm) , I feel the urgent need to tell you why I think you are not all that you are made out to be.

Firstly, you’re the season that chases autumn away. Autumn is aesthetically pleasing and cool, the way the leaves change colour and provide many wonderful photographic opportunities to be turned into screen savers later on. Autumn is the nice aunt that lets you get away with things that your mom wouldn’t. I love autumn. I love autumn so much I even have a friend named Autumn. And she’s a nice person. I like having her around.

Secondly, your need to turn my daily routine into a treacherous road through my life is not appreciated. I do not enjoy wearing clothes that restrict my basic movements and breathing. The way you steal the warmth from my bath water is not a trait considered polite or appropriate. Also, why do you attack the foot I stick out from under my duvet with icy ammunition while I sleep!? I have not seen my toes since March because they refuse to be removed from the socks you insist on casting them to.

Thirdly, I’m not sure if you are aware, but because of the out of season rain you keep springing on us, there is now a leak a directly above my bed. I spent a day hugging myself to be as streamline as possible to slice my way through the cold only to return home to a bed that could’ve been father to Spongebob Squarepants. It held enough water to quench the critical thirst of the sub Saharan Africans. I subsequently had to share a bed with my brother. Please keep in mind that he is six and has a Ben10 bedroom set.

Fourthly (and lastly . . . for now), if I have to blow my nose once more I am almost certain that it will break off, leaving a gaping hole in my face. I live in fear that, if this happens, you will allow the cold to seep through my exposed nasal passages and freeze my brain. Please winter; do not turn me into a vegetable. There are enough of those in the gunk resembling soup my mom makes. Every day. Without fail. Ever.

Mother Nature broke the mould when she birthed you, but please do not take your mommy issues out on simple humanity. I understand that you have inspired many wonderful ideals, like the breakfast cereal - Frosties, balls themed ‘Winter Wonderland” and Santa, but I think we can compromise somehow.

Regards,

A Summer Loving South African

PS. No, you do not get credit for Robert Frost, Brittany Snow or the band, Arctic Monkeys. I’ll give you the Winter X-Games, but that’s all!