Again?

Good morning rain,

While we love you so on Sunday mornings, is it really necessary to visit us *every* day? We mean, shucks, it's touching that you want to spend so much time with us. A little creepy that you don't call or text first, but understandable.

It's like, well, you just have a long journey, we know. But can't your mother call us, or give us warning? What? Listen to the weatherman or check the weather.com? OK. But that doesn't stop you from showing up on our door.

We liked you in that Band song, and we used to like the fact that we *always* thought it was raining, figuratively, wherever we seemed to go. But we're better now. We don't need you to make us feel better about ourselves anymore.

So all we're saying is, well, it's not you, it's us. We're just not ready for the type of everyday commitment you're looking for. Maybe if we had the chance to see the sun every once in awhile, we'd appreciate you more. It's just, well, these things take time.

So what we'd like is for you to maybe just ease up a little bit. When we wake up, we don't need you all up in our bidness getting things wet and ruining our breakfast downtime.

We like you, rain. Wait. We love you rain. Love. Just not all rain, all the time. You need to think about our needs.

Wait. Come back. We don't think you understand us. No. No. No. Did you hear the part about it being us, not you? Sh*t. Something's gone horribly wrong. Come back, rain. Please come back.