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The Time of the Uncertainty of the Temperature And, after an absence of seasons, the Master of All Things Wardrobe spake. �It is time.� The apprentice, unprepared for his return, replied in haste. �Are you certain, Master?� Shivering in her t-shirt, chilled for want of a sweatshirt, too late she realized the sacrilege of her words. Such insolence, despite the years of training. The Master did not smite her, but replied with the patience of the ages. �Have you not seen the Holy Weather Channel?� The apprentice hung her head in shame. �Yes, Master, I have.� �Then you know. It is the Blending of the Seasons. It is time.� The apprentice commenced her duties, and the Glorious Mess did begin. The Baskets were brought from the Heavens of the Closet Shelf. The short sleeves did intermingle with the sweatshirts. The shorts did ascend in Baskets to the Heavens on high, carried by the apprentice on the Most Revered Step Ladder. And the Master returned to From Whence He Came, until the calling of the Holy Weather Channel would summon his presence in another season. The apprentice renewed her vows of diligence and preparedness. And she donned a sweatshirt. |