Ah... Snowmageddon. The Snowpocalypse. A dastardly Snowtastrophe.
'Tis the third big snow we've had this winter'go'round, and I'm so over it. Like I've said before, we Arkansans don't handle this weather well. The prospect of a few good inches, and it sends us all up in a tizzy. Schools cancel hours before the first snowflake hits, and folks get all kinds of ghetto on eachother in the bread aisle at WalMart. It's hardcore, y'all.
And once again, I'm forced to strap on plastic bags to the feet of the offspring, because while we are most certainly outfitted in all manner of make and model of flip-flop, we ain't got no snow boots up in this hood.
Oh...you thought I was kidding? Oh, no, friend. And we're even classy enough to support all major discount chains. Dollar Tree and Walmart are both proudly repruhzentin'.
Here are some other obligatory snow shots. They pretty much look like the ones from last time, but I never really get tired of staring at rosy snowflaked cheeks wearing Walmart sacks for footwear.....
And then I had to go and open my big mouth....
In an attempt to poke fun of the husband who is still rendered pretty much helpless, I made a snide comment about how if he were a "good dad," then he'd rig up something-or-other to pull the darling angel babies around in the snow...you know, redneck sled style. Because we don't own sleds in the South either....
My sarcasm was beat down like a whipped horse.
Because before you can say, "Don't eat the yellow snow!" -- the husband was crutching his way to the garage to rig up a sled contraption to the Razor. Seriously, Dude? Point taken. I will never question your ability to redneck rig something ever again...bum leg or not.
And then I found out who had to drive the dern thing. In the cold. I don't like to be cold. Or wet. Or cold and wet.
So I took it upon myself to come up with the sexiest get-up I could find.....
And here I am behind the wheel of power....
And here are my victims...uh, I mean...passengers.....
Did I mention it was cold? Even with that facemask thing on, I was about to lose my upper lip to frost bite. Plus the face mask belongs to the husband's hunting season, and it smells like feet. Not that the husband smells like feet...I'm just sayin'....
I tooled around our yard and hayfield for a good little bit, pulling boys, making sharp turns so that boys went flying, and driving slow watching boys running their Walmart sacked feet through the snow drifts trying to catch back up to the sled. And then I parked and went inside. Because fun is only fun until Mama gets cold.
The husband crutched out and took some video and picts of the fun, and this is my favorite one:
Because I had just left two kids faceplanted on the driveway.... Snort.Giggle.
And then here is a little video. If you choose to watch it, you'll see the good clean fun of me leaving the Tater Tot in the dust. Again, Snort.Giggle.
So, was the snow horrid? No.
Was it fun? Uh...sure.
Am I ready for Spring? Ab.so.lute.ly.
Have I loved hanging with my men? Snow-Doubt.