A Snow Day
All my friends in the frozen North will laugh, but we have a snow day here in Memphis today. Admittedly, it’s not too spectacular to me, as I spent three winters in Chicago and one February in the mountains of Washington State, but it’s the most snow my children have ever seen. Non-Southerners have to understand that, down here, one-quarter inch of snow is enough to close down the city. (Go ahead and laugh; it’s good for you.)
And snow is rare enough to be a source of both awe and frustration. My five-year-old refused to believe that there had been a Christmas, as there had been no snow. But when we looked out the window at the snowstorm this morning, his only words were “I don’t believe it!”
So here we are with 2 whole inches, 4 in some places, and the schools are closed and some people are even getting the day off from work. The kids are having a blast, despite the fact that the snow turned to rain around 6 this morning and now it’s a slushy goop rather than a nice powder.
Knowing it was coming, I laid everything out last night after they went to bed: two pairs of socks and pants, two shirts, coats, two pair of gloves, hats, and rain boots. As soon as they woke up, I bundled them up and sent them out. They were amazed. Instantly, the oldest made a slush ball and lobbed it at his brother. A full-fledged “snowball” fight was underway.
I sat at the kitchen table with a hot mocha and watched through the kitchen window. (I have a job interview this morning, and getting dressed twice isn’t happening.) They stomped, they splashed, they got out their rakes and lawnmowers and made patterns in the snow. They came in, reluctantly, an hour later, soaked to the skin and muddy as a swamp frog. And happier than they’ve been in months. Which, of course, makes me happy