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Let's talk about the real battlefield of spring: pollen. It's like nature's way of saying, "Hey, I know you enjoyed those flowers, but how about a little sneezing and itchy eyes as a bonus?" I feel like I'm in a war zone every time I step outside during spring. It's me against the pollen, armed with tissues and antihistamines. Spoiler alert: the pollen usually wins.
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You ever meet those people who turn into gardening superheroes as soon as spring hits? Suddenly, they're out there with their pruning shears and watering cans, talking to their plants like they're therapists. I'm over here like, "I watered you last week, isn't that enough?" These overachieving gardeners make me feel like my plants are staging a protest. I can almost hear them whispering, "Call yourself a plant parent? Look at Carol next door!
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Weeds have the audacity to show up in my garden uninvited and act like they belong there. It's like they have a secret society plotting to take over the flowerbed. I try to pull them out, and they're all like, "Wait, I'm a wildflower, didn't you read the memo?" I didn't get the memo, and now I have a garden full of rebellious weeds with an identity crisis. Maybe I should start a support group for them. We'll meet in the backyard, right next to the compost bin.
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You ever notice how spring flowers can be so confusing? I mean, they're beautiful and all, but they can't make up their minds. One day, they're all like, "Hey, look at me, I'm a tulip!" And the next day, they're like, "Nope, I changed my mind, I'm a daffodil now." I'm just standing there in my garden like, "Make up your mind, flowers! I can't keep track of your identity crisis!
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