March comes in like a lion, and goes out like a lamb.

April comes in like a wet dog, and goes out like a full-grown sheep.

May comes in like a butterfly, and goes out like another, less-interesting butterfly — not quite a moth, but almost.

June comes in like a baby bird filled with potential and eager to experience summer, but goes out like a bird that spends its entire life pecking at trash and sitting on the same telephone pole for three months.

July comes in like a tadpole and goes out like some sort of tadpole/turtle hybrid we’ll call Turt-pole.

August is just a hot, sticky fly cleaning itself atop a steamy puddle of bubbly dog saliva.

September comes in like the screeching mom from Malcolm in the Middle and goes out like a teenager who tasted beer for the first time.

October comes in like an amateur dentist and leaves like a metaphor.

November comes in and hides whatever is in that bag. What’s in that bag, November? Tell us. We won’t be mad. We promise!

December comes in like a peacock demanding your attention and goes out like an intelligent, yet desperate, dinosaur testing the electric perimeter fence looking for a weakness…and freedom.

January sits there like the Wendy’s cup under a car seat from 2008.

February comes in like an icy, cold dagger and goes out like someone who cannot believe how early or late Easter is this year.