I was skeptical of the early predictions, but the kids have been planning this snow day for days.
My two faithful rascals wore their pajamas backwards and inside out last night, which supposedly sealed the deal. When they woke up to a foot of snow (on top of the half foot that hadn’t yet melted), they screamed, “Yay!” I screamed, “How will I ever get to work?!”
While I shoveled out my car, sure it must be at the center of the big white fluffy muffin sitting in my driveway, I waited for the snow plow to clear the street. I shoveled. I waited. I shoveled. I fended off the kids, who wanted me in the backyard to play.
“Come see, come see,” they begged until I couldn’t say no anymore and my arms were falling off from lifting and throwing. I trudged through knee-high powder into the backyard, vowing I’d never allow pajamas to be worn backwards and inside out under my roof ever again. “Do you hear me? Never!” I resisted shaking a finger at the culprits and looked out over the yard.
Two of the most perfect snow angels I’d ever seen lay right smack in the middle of the clean white blanket of snow. Two very happy, snow-covered kids threw out their arms and said, “Ta daaa!” Two cats tip-toed around the angels, shaking off a paw every couple steps. The sun came out in a haze, promising not to melt anything anytime soon. “We left a spot for your angel, Mama.”
Was that a snow plow I heard? I pulled down my thick wool hat over my ears to muffle the sound. “Okay, girls,” I said. “Here goes.” I positioned myself in front of a wide area of virgin snow and fell back. It felt like an angel caught me. All I had to do was move my arms and legs until she appeared.
Tonight I’m considering wearing my pajamas backwards and inside out. (Don’t tell anyone at the office!)
