Across the country, moms and dads have been cooped up with their kids this week in what seems like an endless string of snow days. Fellow parents can attest that these frosty furloughs from our daily routines aren’t all rosy cheeks and hot chocolate. Sure, I “like” Facebook posts of friends’ kids out in the snow with their frozen snot mustaches atop chattering blue lips, but I relate more to the on-the-verge cries for help. When you have no physical contact with anyone over the age of nine for days on end, it’s a slippery slope from Norman Rockwell to Norman Bates.
One of my dearest friends summed it up best in a text she sent me yesterday. I give you her three stages of snow days:
Going on day 5 of snow day.
Day 1 = play in snow, hot cocoa
Day 2 = baking and crafts
Day 4 = Son on his Kindle all day while I get drunk and binge watch Veep
I haven’t left the house since Monday morning (it is now Friday). We live on a private mountain road that my husband can barely get up and down in his truck right now so my Leaf can just forget it. This means that while I’ve been housebound, he’s been able to escape. Yesterday at 3pm, I texted the following list of requested items from the outside world:
- milk
- a good bottle of red wine
- a deck of cards*
- Rock’em Sock’em Robots
* I was teaching Jed to play black jack and we quite literally weren’t playing with a full deck.
If I were a rock star, I think I would make one hell of a rider list.
Raveled 