I can’t take another snow day. Like, I seriously mentally can not take it. How is it even humanly possible that we get a huge snowstorm every Sunday night? These kids haven’t gone to school on a Monday in about a month. Which is to say that I have been trapped in this house with five kids every Monday for the past month. The past month. Every Monday. Trapped. Sometimes Monday AND Tuesday. I’m losing it. And I’m losing it fast.
I can’t even share the snow day torture with my husband because he plows so he is gone all day and sometimes almost all night in these storms. When he leaves and I say good-bye to him I wonder if he can see the “please take me with you” look in my eyes…as I’m pretty sure I can see the “see ya later, sucka!” look in his. Yea, yea, yea, I know he is working his ass off. He calls me while he is out there in the cold and snow to fill me in on the horrors of it all. The snow banks are so unbelievably high. There’s nowhere to put the snow. He may have to just snow blow some driveways because it is impossible to plow them at this point. Oh, and his truck got stuck for an hour in some guy’s driveway. And all I can think is: You lucky bastard. I’m actually jealous! I want to say to him that all those things that are supposed to sound awful actually sound pretty damn good because he gets to do them without 5 kids breathing down his neck. I want to say, sure you had to shovel snow and put it into a pile that was over your head…but did you have to do that while breaking up another fight about whose turn it was to be player one on Xbox, or who wouldn’t stop annoyingly humming, or who farted in whose face? I know that snow blowing people’s driveways is exhausting…but did anyone call you Jeeves all day because they were playing house and they gave you the part of the butler? Yes, I realize that you are literally covered in snow like Kristoff from Frozen…but at any point today did someone ask you to let them know their Mac-n-Cheese was ready by using a secret signal? And did you then do the “ca-caw ca-caw” like a crow over and over only to realize that the secret signal receiver had fallen asleep on the couch and couldn’t even hear you?
Did any of those weird things happen while you were out by yourself plowing? No? Okay, then I want to be you. Or I at least want to go with you. Better yet, just drop me off at Starbucks and you can pick me up after the plowing is done. No, wait, scratch that. Bring me to the airport. I’ll be back when this winter is over.