Into Every Life, A Little Snow Must Fall

Well, I had myself a little respite called a SNOW DAY, folks.

Of course I had already dragged myself out of bed, made lunch for me, The Pony, and Genius, taken a shower, styled my lovely lady-mullet, and decided what I was wearing. As I entered the Mansion living room, leaving the wheezing of the breather behind, I heard that BLIP! on my cell phone that signals something it up. Usually, it's something like an email from The Foot Store about a special on orthopedic old-lady shoes. But since I had seen a light dusting of snow across the front yard at 3:00 a.m., I went to check.

IT WAS A TEXT ANNOUNCING MY SNOW DAY!

At 5:31 a.m. I called the branch below me on the tree. She was skeptical. Like I would go around phoning folks at 5:32 a.m. as a pranker, cancelling schools across the land all willy-nilly. Within twenty minutes, I had received the automated parent call. I let The Pony sleep in, but he got up at 6:10 and went about his business like he felt guilty because he was ten minutes late.

"Oh, there's no school today."

"I'M GOING BACK TO BED!"

I puttered around and made a shopping list. Threw myself a pity party complete with streamers, balloons, a clown, pony rides, and an ice cream cake because I had developed a sore throat overnight, either from the tainted mist of sickly Farmer H's breather, or from that close-talker seventh hour who coughed RIGHT IN MY FACE, so close I could feel the droplets.

I deserved this snow day.