You know how when you have a ferret (a beautiful ferret named Daisy, because we didn't like Sally), and you let her out to explore in the morning, and she climbs the couch and over the bookshelves and across the table to the plants to dig and throw dirt all over the place, and then you have to give her a bath where she completely freaks out, and then after you've fought the terrified creature through towel-drying, while you're draining and washing the fur out of the tub, she's back in the livingroom in the plant again? I hate that.
But that part where you're frustrated because you've bathed the ferret (Daisy, not Sally) twice, and found out that she can climb the gate you put up in the kitchen doorway and get into the dreaded under-the-sink, and she's spilled the bathroom garbage can, and you found a stash of sticky twizzlers that she's stolen and piled up in your bedroom doorway for your bare feet to step on, and you say to the ferret, "You are so naughty!".. and then your five year old says, "Mama, she's not naughty. She's a ferret. It's her nature. That's what makes her special." Well that part, I really love.
And you know how you finally get a day at the salon, when you haven't had your hair done in an honest-to-goodness salon in forever -like, years- and you find this trendy awesome place, and the hairdresser is super nice and instinctively knows exactly what will look good on you and fit your personality, and you leave looking like a supermodel? I SO love that.
Then, after spending money on expensive shampoo and something called "hair wax" at the salon and buying some more hair stuff here and there until you're afraid if you confess how much money went into your hair your husband may divorce you, you find out you can't recreate that supermodel look at home. And that blows.
And you know how Mother Nature seems to be holding a serious grudge and dumps rain on you for weeks and weeks, with a few sunny days scattered in between just long enough to clean up the yard from the last destructive storm, and you can't even burn the ever-growing brush pile because it Won't Stop Fucking Raining?? And how you're up half the night because the tornado sirens in every nearby town are roaring away, and you sit listening to the boring news guy for hours in case you need to wake everyone and hide in an "interior room without windows".. for like three nights in a row? I really, really hate that.
But then the storms stop - or actually just fade and fade until they're gone - and everything is completely still, and the flowers in the yard hang their heads with the weight of the water, and lights from the city look pink and gray in the sky, and the only sound you hear is the drip drip dripping of water from some nearby tree, and the smell of the rainwater on the thick green trees and summer flowers is just intoxicating. And then you start thinking the Deep Thoughts about rebirth and cycles of nature and human potential and the wonders of the universe and just how utterly beautiful the whole world is. I think that's about one of the best things ever.