Snow Day Nostalgia

Let's go, Swift!

It's an officially sanctioned snow day at the Peters household! I honestly don't remember the last time I got a nature-related hall pass from life, but probably not in this century. So, woooooohoo! And I've got to say that this one is way legit. I was blown to the ground twice on my walk home last night, despite the ballast of emergency bottles of Riesling. Mother Nature was getting very handsy and it was thrilling.

However, feeling the windows of my cocoon rattle and watching the snow howl by horizontally at 100mph, I'm doubting that this day off is going to be as rad as those of my youth...

My fellow blogger and I were raised in a thoroughly winterized locale, the hardy snow belt of Cleveland. We did occasionally get that most coveted of freebies: a snow day. Mainly because if the snow was plowed too high, the kindergartners couldn't be seen past the drifts at the school bus stops. Which, I guess, is hazardous.

Thanks to those tiny bodies, I remember many a sunny day off. Sure, it was -10 and the snow was five feet deep, but kids are dumb enough to roll around in ice regardless. It felt like freedom. Haha! You adults gave us a day off and we are going to PLAY THE WHOLE TIME even if we freeze.

And after a while, once the backyard igloo was attempted/abandoned, the snowman was rolled, and our fingers were numb, we'd run back inside where our mom would wisk away our wet coats and give us chicken soup and toasted cheese sandwiches. (I know they are popularly called "grilled cheese" but for some reason we called them "toasted". Freaks!)

Sibling and I would then settle in for a blissful afternoon of David the Gnome (holy crud, the Weinsteins produced that?!), Doug, or Animaniacs. If you were born in the '80s and don't remember at least one of those theme songs, I am deeply sorry for you. Bless our parents for having no reservations about letting us watch TV. We turned out fairly normal and literate but with the bonus of knowing a lot of jingles for bar trivia. "They're Pinky and the Brain, Pinky and the Brain. One is a genius, the other insane..."

"It's a pun! Get it?! Cuz my car deals are huge and so am I. If ya
know what I mean! Follow me on Twitter @iamHUGE. Badabing!"

After leaving Cleveland, I spent four years in one of the snowiest yet anti-snow day places in America: Syracuse, NY. Perhaps in retribution for the breaks we got as 5-year-olds, college kids at SU are forced to wait every day in ankle-deep slush for shuttle buses emblazoned with the reclining figure of a rotund car salesman named Billy Fuccillo, proclaiming "IT'S HUGE!" Ugh.

Today, I'm trying to rediscover the joys of an unexpected snow day. Of course I am quite grateful to not have to schlep to the El in a blizzard or even put on real clothes. However, the old magic is lacking.

I could play in the snow of Lincoln Park, but there is a chance I'll be impaled by a flying Dumpster lid. Mom is not waiting to make me soup or any other food. David the Gnome is off the air and The Price is Right has Drew Carey on it now so, NO, because that is sacrilege. My work email is still going to blink at me and the smarter part of my adult brain knows that a day off in the middle of a work week just makes the remainder more crammed.

One thing that I appreciate now just as much as I did as a kid: sleeping in. Ahh, pillow. You are a constant companion. And another thing I appreciate now that I never understood as a kid: the value of emergency bottles of wine when you're snowbound. Salut!