Snow Days.

It’s first thing in the morning when I hear the phone ring, and I always know what it is.

It doesn’t have a special ringtone. I’m not expecting it. But I know what it is.

It’s the superintendent of schools, calling with a recorded message that’s announcing school has been closed due to the snowy weather.

When I was a child, that proclamation would be cause for rejoicing. Now it means I’m losing a work day, and I have to scramble to entertain a five year old. And break my back shoveling a metric crap-ton of snow.

Snow days wipe me out. Shoveling is hard work, and keeping up with a perpetually energetic five year old is an all-day marathon. By the time my wife gets home from work and she “tags in” for parenthood so I can do get to my work day, I’m exhausted. I’ve spent several snow days just staring at a blank screen with a blinking cursor, waiting for my energy to come back so I can write a script, or do whatever else needs to be done. Several times I’ve nearly faceplanted onto my keyboard. Once I had to chug a 5-Hour Energy to stay conscious.

The boy loves his snow days, though. Whether he’s outside playing in the snow or goofing around with his toys indoors, he loves his days off. I suspect he loves them so much because 1) I’m usually doing all the work outside in the snow, pulling him around on a sled or making an arsenal of snowballs, or 2) I’m being led around the house by a pint-sized tyrant, dictating everything we do with his toys and how he wants me to play with them. I mean, wouldn’t you love a day off from school where you get to boss your dad around?

Two snow days last week. One yesterday. He’s back to school the rest of this week, thankfully. I’ll have to blitz to get my work done during his time away from home, because even as I write this my keyboard is looking like a very tempting pillow.