Old Man Winter has become an annoying house guest. It is mid-January and we've already reached our snow quota.
There is only one thing mightier than the force of a winter storm, and that is the suburban grocery panic that precedes it. As soon as the first weatherman issues his "winter storm watch," the Stop and Shop parking lot begins to overflow.
This seems a logical reflex to the prospect of being trapped at home with small children, especially if they outnumber you. Peace offerings in the way of chocolate or fruit rolls will be necessary when the power goes out and boredom sets in. You will also need something to dull the pain of 12 games of charades. Most experienced snow experts leave the market and head directly to their local off license.
As our most recent Snowmaggedon approached, I flocked to the grocery store like the loyal lemming that I am. This time, however, I paid careful attention to what exactly it was that we were purchasing with such urgency. Through this observatory exercise I now understand what must be purchased prior to the End of Days:
- Fritos
- Chicken Wings
- Tampons
Clearly, we are wired to binge before disaster. Nowhere is this proclivity more evident than on our biggest national holiday, Thanksgiving.
Snow days do offer an upside: exercise. Nothing gets the heart pumping more than shoveling snow. Most of my neighbors get their workout by reaching into their wallets to pay the snow plow. We, however, have a more Puritan work ethic (read: we're cheap!) and so we choose instead to clear our own driveway.
For this purpose, we have purchased a snow blower. This is perhaps my favorite of all our equipment because I am forbidden to use it. I get my exercise making hot cocoa and Tim clears the driveway. I think it's a fair trade, don't you?
Ironically, the entire success of the snowblower depends on whether the "shear pin" remains in place. The shear pin is a device that stops the snow blower if it detects a foreign object in its blades, such as a deflated soccer ball, the newspaper, or your neighbor's annoying toy poodle.
Unfortunately, our shear pin has a nasty habit of flying out of its setting into large banks of snow, necessitating a search and rescue mission. This is roughly akin to finding a needle in a haystack, only with frostbite and much more cursing.
I love snow days because they tend to take us down a notch and remind us that fundamentally we are all at the mercy of Mother Nature. I love it when a woman has the last word.
tlc
