So why the hell have we had snow and ice three times in the past month? It's cute and cuddly and okay the first time it falls. The children go ape-poo and run in circles and beg for you to bundle them up and take them outside (no, my children will not go out and entertain themselves alone). You indulge them because this may be the one snow they see for the next five years.
But then it snows again. And the sleet and ice pelt down. And you find yourself wondering why the hell you tolerate living in a region with ignorant rednecks in their obnoxious trucks and rotted teeth and Republican votes and country music only now you're frozen in and can't escape. And then you see that the whole damn country is blanketed in snow and you look around at those bumpkins and wonder: Do you see now? Can you finally grasp climate change?
But, no, every entitled polluter in a 20-mile radius is out ranting about how Al Gore got it wrong because it's not hot outside. Then you bury your own head in the snow and pray to all that is holy that the sun will come out soon. Somewhere inside your cold, dead heart you know it will ... but you aren't quite sure you'll survive to see it.
I am a Southerner and I know it ain't sposed to be this cold! At least my children finally understand that fake men made of snow with big eyes and pipes are creepy as hell.
We're all fantasizing about sweating like stuck pigs this summer. There's always that, and it works ... sometimes.
*This post is part of Works for Me Wednesday and Wordful Wednesday.