There are certain words a weatherdork can mention that cause major repercussions. For example, back on Monday, it appeared we could wake up this morning to some big, wet snowflakes, so that is what I said. It never looked like it was going to be much, if anything. However, that four-letter word...SNOW...gets peoples' attention. The only other thing I could utter (I'm from Wisconsin so I am required to use the word "utter" at least once a day. I know it's not the same as "udder" but don't confuse me with the facts.) that would make people sit up and take notice would be "I am taking this opportunity to announce my retirement..." THAT would be met with loud cheers and enormous sighs of relief from the executive wing alone. Well, Monday afternoon I was overwhelmed with questions about when the flakes would start and how many inches would pile up...over and over and over. And, that was just at my house. Yes, my children...and my wife...are afflicted with SDAD. No, that's not what George Gershwin called his father. ("Gee, s'wonderful to s'see you, S'dad!") No, SDAD is Snow Day Affective Disorder. If there is even the most remote chance that school may be called off due to winter weather, they go bananas...frozen bananas.

They wear their pajamas backwards. They put spoons under their pillows. My wife makes me sleep in the backyard wearing my Rockford Files footie pjs, holding the spoon in my left ear. I'm not sure if that really has anything to do with getting a snow day. Anyway, they all do whatever they think may lead Mother Nature down a snowy path. I fully understand how attractive it is to imagine being all warm and snuggly in the house...venturing out only to go sledding...coming back in to a cozy fire and hot chocolate. But, as I try to explain to these strange people living in my house, a major snow storm means I either go in overnight or drive through hazardous conditions and, then, still have snow to deal with on the way home. I can't really blame them for seeming to ignore me as I say all of this, since it is hard to hear my protestations over their boisterous singing of Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow.

In Wisconsin, we rarely had snow days. Even when there was enough snow to make bus travel unwise, us town kids would trudge to the classroom. From reading these bloggerifiques, you know that my time in class did not help in terms of grammar, spelling and proper sentence structure. With so few of us in the room, most teachers set aside the day's lesson plan and let us play traditional Wisconsin games like "Cheesecurd. Cheesecurd. Who's Got The Cheesecurd?" and "Cold Pipe Tongue Challenge" and "You Might Be A Red If...." That last one was a hold over from the McCarthy era and should not be confused with comedian Jeff Foxworthy's famous "redneck" routine. Ice storms were much more likely to shut down the school. I remember one that knocked out power for several days so we all ended up at the neighbor's house across the street since they had a gas oven. Lots of cards got played and lots of lies about ice fishing were told...like the one about opening a can of peas and placing them neatly around the hole in the ice. When the fish comes up to take a pea, you grab him.

Although snow days were rare, the school did have a plan that involved what were called "snow homes" that would take the country kids in for the night, if a blizzard hit during the day and buses couldn't run when the school day was over. I lived only about a block from the school but my parents still signed me up for a "snow home" and encouraged me to use it whether it was wintry or not.

Back to the present: I know my kids and spouse will be a little perturbed that today turned out to be snow-free. But, I will tell you one thing: it is better to mention snow and NOT get any than the other way around. Once my wife and I were driving up to the airport to pick up a grandma. One of ours, not just one at random from the "Grandparents 'N Such Shoppe." Our daughter, about three at the time, was riding along. As we headed up the highway, big wet snowflakes started to fall. I mean giant, frozen Frisbees. As they splattered on the wind-shield, my little princess said "OOOH. Look at those pretty snowflakes." I was filled with fatherly emotion over my little girl's wonder at the beauty of our natural world. (Please, feel free to wretch, if you must, after that last sentence.) "Wait a minute," she continued. "Did you say it was going to snow?" I had to admit that I had made no mention of snow that morning. None. My daughter pondered this latest example of her dad's incompetence, sighed and said "Well, it's pretty anyway."

I have more to say about snow and snow-days, but, right now, I have to go out in the backyard and get my alarm clock, pillow and blanky. My wife said I can sleep indoors tonight.