A tale wherein I embarrass myself

So last night Q. went to bed last night feeling pretty certain that today would be a Snow Day. I said don't bet on it. He said but they closed everything down last week during the Blizzard of the Century That Wasn't (possible headlines for the event: THE BLIZZ THAT FIZZED or BLIZZARD SMCHMIZZARD). I said there wouldn't be a Snow Day. And now that it's morning and he's been listening furtively with fading hope to the news, he realizes it isn't a Snow Day as well.

So he's annoyed.

So I'm all DUDE! IT'S UTAH! IT SNOWS HERE. I'm also all I NEVER HEARD OF A SNOW DAY WHEN I WAS A KID. And then I really got going. WHEN I WAS A KID WE WERE GETTING UP AT 4:00 IN THE MORNING AND MILKING COWS BEFORE WE WENT TO SCHOOL IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER.

And here's the thing. I was completely serious. I was really believing that as a young girl growing up in Provo, Utah, I was leaping out of bed in the winter at the crack of dawn to help my family out on the cow front. But of course we didn't have actual cows. Just a dog. And I never got out of a bed at 4:00. Unless it was 4:00 in the afternoon.

I'm getting the crazy old person disease.

Also, I think I might turn this into a column. So if you read my column, forget I wrote this.

Happy Snow Day.