DON'T Let it Snow...

"A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water." ~Carl Reiner

I have come to the conclusion that snow is the only weather that is absolutely forgiven no matter what it does.

If a tornado picks up your SUV, spins it around violently and throws it 200 feet away from you, you are not happy. You don't say, "Oh! That tornado was so neat! It was just miraculous!"

If a hurricane soaks your house with consistent rain and violent winds, you don't go, "Way to go, Rita. That wind almost knocked me off of my porch!"

Why, then, do we let snow and ice mess up our schedules, cause us to slide off the road and debilitate us from going to Wal-Mart for food?

My roommate, the Snow Queen, could literally do the splits in our driveway, rip her pants and then gleefully exclaim, "I looooooooove snow! I loooooooove winter!"

Like a four-year-old child, she begs me to go play in the snow each evening. I, resembling a grumpy mother, usually ignore her pleas and prefer to warm myself by McSteamy the Space Heater.

It's almost like if I go outside and laugh...I am letting it one-up me. It's like I am condoning its ability to run me off the road or freeze me to death in these winter months.

Not only that, I equate snow with cooking. How, you ask, are they even related? Well-- cooking is all fine and dandy until you realize that after everyone has scarfed your food down like hungry animals, there is a mound of dirty pots, pans, plates and silverware waiting for you to clean.

...Similarly, I can't seem to ignore the future when it comes to snow; I can't see past the freezing, soaked clothes and the inability to warm up once I get back inside. Even my Snuggie can't ward off the chill and my fingers are frozen into solid ice cubes.

When leaving work on Monday, I had to pull over on the side of the road because my tires could not make contact with the road. For an hour, I sat and waited to be picked up. A young man, who I thought was coming to see about my plight, instead chucked a huge snowball at my windshield. Thanks. He probably loves winter.

This morning, as I left my house, I lost my footing and was 3 inches short of the splits. I did the whole scan of the neighborhood to see if anyone saw and then carefully stomped my way to the car. Similarly, I almost busted my tailbone on the way to church last week and slid onto the main highway from our street. I will never forget the sound my brakes made as they screamed, "We ain't stoppin, girl! Hope you have made your life right with God and fellow man."

All this and people still sing winter's praises. I will admit it through gritted teeth: Snow is pretty. Winter is pretty. I like scarves.

But you know what? A pit bull will still bite you even if it has lipstick and a dress on.

Call me a pessimist. Call me a grouch. But I am here to be that needy, ex-girlfriend of summer. "Come baaaack! I miss you! I'm sorry that I did you wrong. I promise to go outside every day and bask in your goodness!"

I guess until Mr. Summer hears my pleas and wraps me in his sunshine, I will just have to look on the bright side of things. I get to catch up on some sleep, face adventure just by attempting to get to work and touch up my balancing abilities.

...I figure by the time summer rolls around, I will be Olympics balance beam material. That is, if winter decides to spare me from broken limbs and frostbite...