Two words that instantly turn on the 'glee' lights in a child of the Midwest.
We got 5 or 6 inches of the powdery white stuff last night, enough so that when I stumbled downstairs this morning to check the weather, the local channels were all scrolling that familiar childhood delight, "School Closings", along the bottom of the screen. And, of course, they'd just passed our county, and I had to wait for bloody ever.
There it was.
I trotted back upstairs, broke the news to Sergei, offered to stay home with the kidlets, and then forced some sex on the man.
So I'm home, with kids circling me like greedy vultures, "Let's go SLEDDING!", and "snuggle with me!", and laundry to do and Christmas cards to finally get out, crafty ornaments to be made, and now I can hear the snowplows down our street, which means this afternoon we'll venture to Local Mall to do some Christmas shopping for teachers and daddy.
I hate snow. Generally. As a rule.
But Snow Days frickin' ROCK!
Hey, if you're not doing anything, come on over, we'll make some hot choccie and pop some corn and watch something silly and inane, and have a good time!