Here in the South we live for snow. Maybe a little too much. Unlike some of you, we only have it a couple of times a year, at best. You guys really have to stop judging us. All of the ridiculous decisions that we make are really beyond our control.
Once we hear that there is even a chance of wintry precipitation, we go into what is called survival mode. No, we don’t actually need milk or bread, yet we feel compelled to race to the store in hopes of finding a loaf or a gallon left on the shelves.
What IF it snows and the trucks cannot get in to make deliveries? How are we supposed to survive without the option of milk sandwiches? Better safe than sorry. Stock up.
Next we fill our cars with gas so they can sit in our garages and driveways on full. You sure don’t want us out there driving around in that stuff. Most of us have the common sense to head to our homes as soon as the first flakes begin to fall. Clearly, in less that five minutes the roads could be deemed treacherous.
Sure, YOUR instincts kick in and tell you to steer into the slide and ease off the gas but we Southerners anticipate the fiery crash as soon as the slide begins. We immediately start to scream like little girls and go into bumper car mode, turning the wheel violently back and forth, standing on the brake, all while hoping that our impending target is more soft than not, and preferably not sliding toward us.
When things go as planned, we are sitting in our homes awaiting the storm of the century when the first flakes begin to fall. Here in the South the weather forecasters don’t let these events sneak up on us (maybe a conspiracy with the bread and milk companies).
We dance around in amazement as the fluffy flakes start to fly around. It is really a magical thing to behold.
Time to bundle up the kids for some snowtime fun. But not in fancy snow suits like you probably have. We don’t get enough snow to have those lying around. We bundle our kids in layers. Layers of under-shirts, t-shirts, pajamas and sweat pants.
We put on multiple pairs of socks, and no, not snow boots but everyday athletic shoes. We layer on scarves and inappropriately thin gloves. We always underestimate the chances of frostbite, while standing in the winter weather accessories section of Walmart. We talk ourselves out of the more expensive ski gloves. Because after all it only snows once or twice a year.
Finally we top it off with our thickest coats and toboggans. If you are fancy, you may one of the facemask type. Clever. Very clever.
Now out into the snow we go!
If you are extremely lucky, you may have three inches to frolic and roll around in. You make snow angels because those are hard to screw up. You make puny, misshapen snowmen. We don’t see enough snow down here to get skilled in the art of snowman crafting.
Most snow events however, we only get about a half an inch. So the kids more or less throw a couple of handfuls at one another, walk around making footprints, then get bored and come back inside, demanding hot cocoa.
And this is exactly where the magic wears off.
Children must remove all outerwear and shoes at the door, careful to step only on the towels that I have strategically placed on the floor. All shoes must be placed on heat vents to dry. Because after all, they are your school shoes. Coats must be draped over all unoccupied pieces of non-upholstered furniture.
Next kids should remove clothing a layer at a time, until you get to a dry layer. All wet clothes should be placed in the laundry basket.
Lastly, while everyone is seated in the kitchen sipping warm cocoa, I feverishly mop away any sign that the snow ever existed from my hardwood floors.
This process will be repeated no less that three times in a day. Until I am ready to pull my hair out of my head.
You see even though I really do think snow is magical, and I will stand there with all of the other idiots when the flakes begin to fall, I quickly remember that snow is nothing more than the bane of my existence. It falls from the sky for the sole purpose of infiltrating my house and causing me mounds of laundry and more cleaning.
So my kids are home from school today. We got our inch of snow and we made our 20 minutes of glorious childhood snow memories.