|Snowy the Snow Owl saw his shadow, which means you're not making it out alive.|
I'm reporting live from the Split level, where there's snow for miles and sanity is just a fun idea we like to talk about.
It's winter everywhere, but there's something about winter in Kansas that, when the sparkly sheen of the first dusting wears off, makes one realize she could be snowed in forever, and ever and ever. The kids aren't laughing at my jokes anymore. I'm not laughing at them tripping me with cookie sheets anymore. It just got real up in here.
And we're all out of actual cookie dough.
Hmm? You didn't tune in today for a dose of raw, unfiltered, unfettered, untreated, rough-hewn, redundant dose of sheer desperation? No fear, there's a chart.
You're not in Kansas, but that's ok. I've pulled together a quick 5-Day weather reference so you can accurately gauge what those chilly temps mean to the average iced-in parent:
Thursday - 15 degrees and snowing
Feels Like: We should've moved to Florida last year.
Friday - 5 degrees and snowing
Feels Like: Complete panic because we can't get out of the driveway. Did we buy enough food? If it came down to it, could the dog sustain us? Quiet, the dog's looking over here. I think he heard us.
Saturday - 10 degrees and partly cloudy
Feels Like: Two adults fighting over who gets to go shovel the driveway. Loser has to stay inside and figure out who peed on the floor in the bathroom. (The dog is eventually blamed, the trumped up charges leading to a stronger case for eating him.)
Sunday - 22 degrees and partly cloudy
Feels Like: The kids have never seemed this loud before. Have they always been this loud?
Monday - 12 degrees and possibly snowing
Feels Like: We might not make it. Oh, and we're out of food. There's always the dog. Nope, dog tunneled out of here last night. Every man, woman and child for themselves.
By my estimation, there's only about twenty-four more weeks of winter, but I could be wrong. That's just what it feels like.
Until Next Time, Readers!