I remember learning at a young age that there is a weather recipe that makes the perfect guaranteed snow day. You see, first it has to start with rain, around 8:00 or 9:00 at night. Then, that ran has to freeze around midnight, followed by a fast heavy snow that grows and grows so quickly that the plows can’t possibly clear the roads fast enough. If all that happens, then you’ll wake up the next morning to see your school listed at the bottom of the screen on the news and you’ve got yourself a snow day. If it continues to snow, then you could get the coveted second snow day in a row.
There was a movie on this, I think Nickelodeon made it and it’s currently on Netflix. The kids waste their entire snow day trying to ruin the snow plow man’s life so they can get a SECOND snow day. Talk about being selfish and wasting a full free day. Youths.
As kids we used to spend our snow days running around the back yard making now forts. My dad had this huge white bucket that we would fill and make walls. We’d roll giant snow boulders and make snow angels. Then my brother and his friends would come over and he’d stuff my face in the snow and sit on me and ask me if I could breathe.
Our dad would shovel the driveway and make huge mountains. We’d climb them and wave at our mom through the kitchen window. I don’t remember who told us never to build snow tunnels, but that was a huge no. Because the snow could collapse on you and you’d suffocate and die, right there in your backyard. I mean, if there’s one way to make a child fear snow or tunnels, it’s that.
Of course once you finish school there are no more snow days and snow is this evil thing that makes driving to work a huge pain in the ass. It takes twice as long and you just sort of slide around with other cars and you just all slide around hoping you don’t hit each other.
The first winter I was in community college, I spent a lot of time driving down the country roads avoiding snow drifts and squinting through white-outs. It was one of the worst winters we’d had in awhile. The school didn’t close often, but my professors would follow whatever the local elementary/middle schools were doing. So if they were closed, there was no class. My sister and I spent a lot of time sitting around the house that winter, since her high school would be closed too. We’d hang out in the kitchen eating chicken noodle soup, listening to Nsync, and baking cookies. We baked SO many cookies.
We’d completely destroy the kitchen, and then send our mom pictures to her work e-mail so she’d see what she was missing. There would be sugar and flour everywhere, the guinea pigs would be running all over the kitchen table, Miss Pamela (our adorable beagle and living floor cleaner) would be pacing the kitchen waiting for things to drop on the floor.
One night it started to snow really hard. It was 10:00 and my dad said he would need to clear the snow at least once before bed so that it wasn’t too high in the morning. My sister and I piled on all our winter gear and ran outside after him screaming and laughing like children, one in college and the other in high school, Pamela right behind us, acting like a puppy. Only a few minutes of being outside and we were covered in huge snowflakes.
Our dad started to blow the snow into mountains, and we climbed them and tapped on the kitchen window glass to wave to our mom inside. She rolled her eyes and laughed while sitting at the kitchen table. We went and grabbed a yard stick to measure how deep the snow was, taking pictures and acting like Top Models, exactly how Tyra would tell us to be.
Pamela dove into the snow and chased the falling flakes. My dad yelled over the sound of the snow blower for us to stop kicking the snow back onto the drive way. The neighbor came out to see what all the noise was about.
One thing that’s so great about being older, is you can run around in the snow in the middle of the night and act like you’re on Top Model and your parents just accept the fact that they’ve just lost control at this point. Back when Top Model was our favorite show, when nothing mattered except snow days and baking cookies and eating chicken noodle soup and Nsync. There’s something magical about a snow day, it’s like nature is telling you that you have this day where you can do anything.
I mean, except drive, I guess you probably shouldn’t drive. Unless you have to, cause I mean being an adult means working usually even when it’s snowing. Ugh, adulting sucks. Let’s just bake cookies instead.