Inaccurate Weather Predictions and Mandatory Snow Day Behavior

Well, we've already seen it a couple of times this year. The weather men, simply stated, can't predict it. I wish we had the technology for snow that matched that for tornadoes. "Yes, Heights and Hillcrest neighborhoods, you are directly in the path of this snow and it will be on your street within the hour..."

Snow days. Such fun. I remember lots of them growing up. It seemed to snow more when I was a kid. Or did they just seem like such a big deal that I remember them so well? For a kid who lived in the far Northeast corner of Texas, I have quite the share of snow pictures myself. Snowmen. Walking the dog in the snow. Sledding down a hill at Texas High School. We had a pretty cool sled, too.

I remember that Dad always had to get out and "check the roads." I don't know why he felt the need to do this. It wasn't as if he had a duty to call the police or the highway transportation department and report on road conditions and the presence of black ice. He just had to get out in it. Maybe for just 10 minutes, but it was some sort of feat he had to accomplish.

Everyone's past must include a winter storm of ____ and then you fill in the date. Ours was 2000. It started Christmas morning and went all through the night. Record-breaking amounts of ice and sleet. Widespread panic and devastation. My grandmother stayed with us for two weeks until they had her electricity on.

Jenny remembers the same storm. It traveled (as they often do) right up Interstate 30. Jenny's dad hums when he's nervous or agitated. It's rather endearing. It was Christmas Day in Arkansas, too, and they had been with his family in Benton when the storm arrived. After hours of driving at a glacial (pun intended) pace, humming all the way, they arrived back in St. Charles. He even went so far as to lay his body down on the driveway for the girls to crawl over so as to not slide down the street into frozen oblivion.

Nowadays, Jenny's only mandatory snow day behavior is remaining in her pajamas for the duration.

Ahhh. Winter weather. It brings out the crazy in every southern American. Flickering lights. Candles and matches in the bathroom. Empty shelves in Kroger where the toilet paper should be. There's nothing quite like it.

At any rate, we did have a dusting a couple of weeks back. Here's a rundown of Benjamin's snow day, complete with mandatory behaviors he feels necessary to the occasion:

1. Introduce Bunny to Snow. Ever-present bunny...Mandatory.

2. Try out colors from Christmas stocking.
Something tells me mommy colored Elmo.
Sitting in a big-person chair, mandatory.


3. Playdoh. Color mixing mandatory.

4. Running the vacuum. Passy mandatory.

5. Checking out the snow. "oooh-ing" and stomping mandatory.

6. Slipping and sliding. Squealing and smiling mandatory.

7. Laughing at two silly dogs in the backyard. Ball in hand, mandatory.

8. Mandatory stick chewing by the dogs. (Remember, Dada broke

his foot. Our yard hasn't had any attention since, oh, say...Halloween.)

9. Tiring of being outside. Now time for Train Table. Sound effects mandatory.

10. On to Hammer and Nails Time. Goggles optional. Hard hat mandatory.

11. Dada's finally home from work and ready to play, too.

Barnyard games. Mooing mandatory.