The kids have wonderfully different reactions to massive amounts of snowfall. The oldest daughter (the Human Tape Recorder) tends to view school closings with the same outlook Hermione Granger had in the Harry Potter series – “Oh no! Well, at least I’ll have more time to study.”
Needless to say, SOBUMD and I give each other “well it’s not from MY side of the family” looks. But we do it very quietly, so as not to break the magic. After all, the HTR will probably be the one supporting us in our old age, assuming we live long enough to be burden to our kids – which is, of course, my goal.
Number One Son, on the other hand, is enthralled by the idea that snow has closed the schools. This will allow him more time to play with his Bionicles, legos, and video flip camera thingy. The fact that this time away will be made up on what would have been holidays is irrelevant. He’s getting better about the concept of the future – I’m pretty sure he understands things like “tomorrow” at this point – but we’re still really dealing with two senses of time: Things that will affect him this week, and “huh?” He’s got a very firm grip on the past, though; he’s been telling us all morning about how many records this snowfall has broken. All. Morning. Long. Since he woke up at something early.
You’ll have noticed by now that neither of the above examples included anything like “going outside in the snow.” Inside studying, inside playing, and (in the case of their parents) inside finding the perfect ratio of Bailey’s Irish Cream to coffee (which, for the record, is about 1 shot per 6-oz cup). I can’t blame them at all; we have at least 22 inches already, maybe more, and we’re expecting another 6 to 10 before it stops. The branches of the tree in the front yard are touching the ground. (Mind you, the ground has been doing its best to rush up and meet them – some are already buried.) I don’t want to go out there either – drifts of snow in excess of three feet are why god invented booze.
Enter the Reigning Queen of Pink, Grand Duchess of Fluff, Lord High Protector of Barbies, and Baroness of the Hummingbirds. “I can’t wait to go outside in the SNOOOOOOOOOOW!” Oh god. The RQoP is not someone who can be let out to play in this snow on her own. What she’s making up for in attitude is what she’s lacking in altitude – we’re talking about 36 inches of snow and 47 inches of little girl. Not a lot of mobility there. We’ve considered the Pam trick – just put her in her snow outfit (yes, it’s pink; yes, it’s fabulous), hose her down with non-stick cooking spray, and toss her out to see how far she slides. She herself has suggested that we try this with a rope so that we can simply haul her back in when she stops. I’m at least certain that we’d be able to see the pink patches among the white. Perhaps we’ll go out in the morning, if it’s fine. Yeah, and we’ll go to the lighthouse, too.
So, today will be spent studying, playing, drinking, baking, bitching, and in one notable case, practicing our moves for rolling over and being found again in the hope of getting outside. Bring on the snow! And the corkscrew.