My dad was in the Marines and I lived in a lot of places, but for the purpose of this story, I grew up in North Carolina. Anyone who has ever lived in the south knows that when the snow falls there, the towns roll up their sidewalks, hang their "closed" signs and brace themselves for the worst. In fact, much like hurricane preparation, there is a run on food and beverages of all sorts at the grocery stores when snow is even predicted.
It is no surprise that as a child I got incredibly excited about the possibility of snow for two reasons: 1. we never got it, so it was a special treat and not guaranteed to stick around for long and 2. there was a 95% chance we would have a snow day!
I have distinct memories of getting up for school, seeing some white stuff falling and waiting impatiently in front of the television to see my school's name scroll across the screen. Fingers crossed. Then, the glorious moment would come and boy oh boy would my sisters and I rejoice. I think it drove my mother nuts.
Here I sit looking at the snow outside. It has pretty much ruined my plans for today. When did I grow out of the joy and excitement of snow days? Welcome to the Midwest.