we got another 3 inches of snow in the early hours of wednesday, leaving us with 6 inches on the ground and school cancelled for the day. it was the PERFECT snow day – sun shining on the white snow, a morning trip to the mall for big soft pretzels, the wanton consumption of barnes and noble gift certificates, an almost-incident-free run on victoria’s secret to redeem my “free valentine’s day thong” coupon, and a cruise through the clearance rack at target for a new coat for MonkeyBeef (he was popping out of his 2T coat like the Incredible Doughboy, and somehow, none of his three older brothers has ever owned a 3T coat.) so, with a new bakugan in one hand, an icee in the other, and one horrendously ugly-ass $5 coat on the back of an unsuspectingly unsexy MonkeyBeef, we headed home for an afternoon of driveway shoveling, snowman building, and sledding.
day 2: we got the 6 am robo-call from the district superintendant that, due to the cold – no new snow, just straight-up COLD – school would again be cancelled. the boys played wonderfully all day, i had made it to the grocery store the day before, all was civilized, with a couple hours of evening video gaming taking us into the home stretch of being confined to the house without incident.
day 3: the temperature at 8 am was -24 degrees. negative. twenty. four. degrees. the wind chill on even a modest gust of wind is -50 or so. since i had hurt myself going to get the mail at 30 degrees warmer the day before, the trash didn’t make it to the curb at all. fuck. that.
there will be no stepping out of this house again today, and hints of boredom are seeping in around the edges of things as space-time subtly distorts. the twits have been wanting to cook dinner, and i’m about to break down and just let them make the “casserole” they’ve been plotting, despite the fact that the long ingredient list has nothing but cheeses on it. MonkeyBeef, having, from the sound of it, just broken what i believe is baby gate #4, is now amusing himself by throwing progressively heavier things down the basement stairs. and i made the breakfast-time announcement that, since the milk was frozen solid and would take several hours to thaw, there would be no milk for breakfast and they should all go choose a soda.
upon hearing this status update, my somewhat-sympathetic friend in southern florida emailed back:
From: IAlsoHaveADream
Sent: Friday, January 16, 2009 9:27 AM
To: WelfareLoser
Subject: RE: Receipt # 25XP90SUCKIT1
I just got this email from Vegas on the odds for various reactions of your children to the statement that they could have soda for breakfast:
2-1: Silent staring for 2 seconds, followed by a mad dash towards the refrigerator and thoughts of “Holy shit, I don’t know what happened to mom, but I’m sure as hell gonna take advantage of this until she gets better!”
3-1: The boys scurrying in a mad dash towards the refrigerator, tripping over each other, and then being trampled by an overexcited MonkeyBeef The Wonderpup, who doesn’t understand why we’re all running towards the refrigerator, but he assumes there is sugar involved.
5-1: EvilGremlin, tempted by the possiblity of soda-drenched Captain Crunch, still cannot resist the opportunity to ask you whether milking a cow in current weather conditions would cause it to produce ice cream.
8-1: One child pulling his shirt over his head, putting his arms at a 90 degree angle, and yelling “I AM CORNHOLIO! I NEED TP FOR MY BUNGHOLE!”
12-1: EvilGremlin quizzing you about why they were being offered soda for breakfast, and your response being something along the lines of “Well, I’m letting you guys prepare a meal that involves only various types of cheese cooked together. Something has to get the brownworks going after you eat that Constipation Casserole.”
From: WelfareLoser
Sent: Friday, January 16, 2009 11:07 AM
To: IAlsoHaveADream
Subject: RE: Receipt # 25XP90SUCKIT1
that’s SO in my blog.
if you bet on #1, you just doubled your money. #2 probably would have been a winner, too, but MonkeyBeef was busy with the superman learning computer, which has spoken nothing but spanish since he first laid his miraculous hands on it.
it’s almost lunch time. mmmm, peanut-butter-and-crack-rocks sandwiches. on homemade sourdough. because i’m all about the healthy eatin.
