Squandrous

Dear weather gods:

I don’t mind the thunderstorms every other day of the week. I wouldn’t even mind if the storms are apocalyptic — I’ll take the rain and wind and destruction.

All I ask is that you please, please, please keep the skies clear on Sunday and make the forecasted rain go away. I’ll owe you big time. You let me know what I need to do to so that I can pay you back, and I’ll do it.