Every damn year the anticipation of the FIRST SNOWFALL renders lifelong mid-westerners panicked and shitting their pants. We are currently expecting, wait for it, 2-5 inches of snow tomorrow! AND possibly 1-3 more the following day! Stop the presses, slap my ass, and call me Shirley. SNOW?? In the end of November?? Blasphemy!!!!
This is Illinois. Unless you can show me your boarding pass from last week and are rocking a savage tan to prove you are from Miami, you need to really get it together. We have four seasons. They are not always the same length, they are not always perfect. But there ALWAYS is a winter. And what happens in winter?? It gets cold and it SNOWS!
I am fully aware that tomorrow there will be barren shelves at the grocery store. Every single person on the roads will completely forget how to drive in the snow. The news in going to be non-stop storm watch. It will pre-empt every TV show. Because as a society we have grown accustomed to being updated every 3 minutes about events big and small and pointless. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat with be loaded with cozy sweater pics and snowflake emojis. I saw an entire family excitedly looking at new shovels and taking turns posing with them at Target. Seriously, you pansy-ass bitches need to pull up your big girl panties get a grip.
When I was a kid it snowed. It snowed a LOT. I am from West Michigan. Winter does not fuck around up there. People shoveled, kids wore snowsuits and mittens and hats. We played outside for HOURS and school was never cancelled because it was too cold. What kind of raging bullshit is that? Too cold? And suddenly we have to name every significant POTENTIAL storm that might pass over our city. I believe this one is called Bella. Oh my fucking god, REALLY?
I am going to possibly put a snow scraper in my car. I will probably wear boots. I will be drinking my Pinot Noir because it keeps me warm and creates enough of a buffer between my annoyance and the barrage of Snowpocalypse nonsense. Let me give you a little lesson in reality. As with anything in life, 2-5 inches is really nothing to post about on Facebook. If we're talking 9-12 inches then give me a call. But until Winter Storm Magic Mike rolls in, shut it.
3 comments:
I think the drama has rubbed off on Dad. He has turned into Storm Team 8, live and breathing in our house. Lucky me. Rain, snow, wind-- he has a daily, if not semi-daily, and soon-to-be hourly report on the weather. Who cares? I've survived 60+ years of this stuff. I think I'll make it through one more. No need to throw us all into uber panic mode for the first sign of a snowflake. I get it. Good blog, Molly.
Love you,
Mom
P.S. The snow shovels are lined up in our garage, as we speak. We are prepared for war against the snowflakes.
I stumbled across this blog and these call-it-the-way-you-see-it entries put a huge grin on my face. My first impression was, "wow, I'm not the only one!" As a single father of three teenagers I can attest to the craziness in life as you describe it. Keep them coming! CJ
Hahahaha you're my new fav blogger. I would have 100% been taking pictures with the snow shovels along with that family. Luckily, the only thing I have to shovel is the sand out of my car, after I get back from the beach.
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