You might have missed this: I’m from Texas. Snow is like Kryptonite to us. Like beautiful, deadly Kryptonite. If you don’t know what Kryptonite is, put down your dadgum iPod and go pirate some old school Christopher Reeve movies. I can’t do everything for you people.
snoooow thank you
Anyways, when it snows, the MOG and I shut it down. Neurosurgery? Cancel it. House fire? Reschedule. We will be indoors until the law makes us come out. And we live on a little slope, you know, our road is slightly hilly. So the first thing I do with new snow is make a cup of tea and settle in to watch the cars slide down the hill. BZZZZZTTTTTTT, they say, wheels spinning to no avail. They lean forward in the driver’s seat, intent. BZZZZTTTTTTeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, down the hill they go. I sip my tea and cackle like a 90 year old. Every now and then one gets through and I sit back, disappointed.
The kids get suit up and go out for a while, but eventually the cold air activates their brain cells and they come back inside, where humans belong. I have done a few basic survival tasks, involving peanut butter sandwiches and folding clothes, and then I pulled a sweet Mr. Rogers and changed into my daytime PJs and have returned to my post at the window, waiting to see what Captain Intrepid (our mailman) is wearing today, and if the neighbors are going anywhere. It’s gonna be a great day. Unless we have to go outside.