One winter day, there was a man standing in the middle of someone's front yard. The person stayed there for several weeks without moving and the owner of the yard didn't mind. Eventually the man left. Who was the man?
Sometimes I am loved, usually by the young. Other times I am dreaded, mostly by the old ones. I am hard to remember, also hard to forget. And yet if you do, You'll make someone upset. I occur every day everyone has to face me. Even if you don't want it to happen; embrace me. What am I?
