Just an Average Snow Day
Katy Cibulka
Haag
College Composition
27 January 2013
Just Your Average Snow Day In grade school, snow days were the absolute best part of the winter months and living in Missouri promised at least a few per year. One particular day in third grade stands out in my mind as the best snow day of all. Any kid could tell you how a snow day begins; waking up at the regular time and groggily recalling the forecast from the night before, we would run to the window and peer out to see the blinding white sight of new snow covering the ground. This image could wake a grade schooler up faster than the smell of cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. After establishing that the forecast had been true I ran straight to my parents room where my brother was already flipping to the news channel. The anxiety waiting for our district to come up left us silent, and I can still feel the racing of my heart as the alphabet brought us closer to the verdict. PARKWAY read clear across the screen and we waited until it scrolled all the way to the top just to confirm we weren’t mistaken. And this was the beginning of the first snow day of the season; I could just feel it was going to be one to remember. Now, for some kids snow days mean snowboarding down the neighborhood hill or having a legendary snowball fight. For me, a snow day meant drinking hot chocolate while sitting in my pajamas and watching Lizzie McGuire, and perhaps sledding down the hill a few times. I was lounging in the living room working on this ideal of my perfect snow day, when my dad comes in tells me to get my snow gear on. Okay, I thought, it’s a tad early, but I can go for getting this cold stuff out of the way. So I listened to my dad, and got on my five shirts and seven pairs of socks. When I was in full suit I headed down the stairs and into the garage where my brother and dad were waiting for me. To my surprise I found them readying a few brooms, “What’re you doing?” I asked hesitantly. I really didn’t want to
Haag
College Composition
27 January 2013
Just Your Average Snow Day In grade school, snow days were the absolute best part of the winter months and living in Missouri promised at least a few per year. One particular day in third grade stands out in my mind as the best snow day of all. Any kid could tell you how a snow day begins; waking up at the regular time and groggily recalling the forecast from the night before, we would run to the window and peer out to see the blinding white sight of new snow covering the ground. This image could wake a grade schooler up faster than the smell of cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. After establishing that the forecast had been true I ran straight to my parents room where my brother was already flipping to the news channel. The anxiety waiting for our district to come up left us silent, and I can still feel the racing of my heart as the alphabet brought us closer to the verdict. PARKWAY read clear across the screen and we waited until it scrolled all the way to the top just to confirm we weren’t mistaken. And this was the beginning of the first snow day of the season; I could just feel it was going to be one to remember. Now, for some kids snow days mean snowboarding down the neighborhood hill or having a legendary snowball fight. For me, a snow day meant drinking hot chocolate while sitting in my pajamas and watching Lizzie McGuire, and perhaps sledding down the hill a few times. I was lounging in the living room working on this ideal of my perfect snow day, when my dad comes in tells me to get my snow gear on. Okay, I thought, it’s a tad early, but I can go for getting this cold stuff out of the way. So I listened to my dad, and got on my five shirts and seven pairs of socks. When I was in full suit I headed down the stairs and into the garage where my brother and dad were waiting for me. To my surprise I found them readying a few brooms, “What’re you doing?” I asked hesitantly. I really didn’t want to