Snow Day

We awoke this morning to snow. Of course, it was nothing compared to Maine, where snowfall is more often measured in feet than inches. Still, it was our first real snow of the winter. More than an inch had fallen already, and the tiny, quickly-falling flakes promised more to come.

I looked out of the window and saw white-mantled trees and cars and the clean, trackless swath of the street. Our dingy city block actually looked pretty, for a change.

If the snow was just something lovely to look at, I would welcome it. Unfortunately, snow is a major annoyance. Just getting out the door takes ten minutes in this kind of weather. It was extremely cold today, so I told the boys to put on sweatshirts under their coats. Then we tugged on their boots and zipped them into their jackets. Finally, I helped them put on their waterproof mittens.

As soon as they were outside, the boys started making snowballs and throwing them at each other. The snow was dry and powdery, and the snowballs disintegrated on impact. The boys were disappointed.

The roads were slippery, with ice under the snow. To minimize the amount of driving I had to do, we dropped Daniel off at his school first and then took Tab to work.

By the time I got home the car was filthy with slushy snow and salt. The back window was so grimy I could hardly see out of it, and the windshield wiper fluid had frozen solid. I brought some Windex and paper towels outside to clean the windows, but the Windex froze almost as soon as I sprayed it. I gave up.

Once upon a time, snow days were joyous days. A snow day meant an unexpected time off from school, sledding, and building snowmen. Sometimes my father would help us build an igloo that would hold three of us.

Now, however, snow means dangerous walking and even more treacherous driving, snow tracked onto the carpet and cranky, housebound children. Not to mention a cranky, housebound mother.

Spring can't come soon enough for me!

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