Yep, here in Kansas we just got pummeled with a good foot of snow. I shoveled 'till my back couldn't take any more. And to get all existential on y'all, does it really matter? Really? The Snow Gods are yukking it up, ready to toss another foot on us tomorrow, laughing at the poor plight of the Midwesterner with the bad back, saying "hey, Charlie, check this guy out (because in my world, Snow Gods are named "Charlie")."
I come inside, sweaty, red-faced, looking like a Lifetime movie husband, all blustery and out of breath and ready to kill. I turn on the TV to be met with a jovial weatherman announcing the impending arrival of yet another hella' storm. And he's happy about it. Grinning. Grrr.
Meanwhile, the kids across the street were singing Let It Snow. I'd had enough. It was bad enough the brat was praising glories and hallelujahs to the Snow Gods, but he was also singing a holiday song out of season. Not on my watch. To show I wasn't a pawn of the Snow Gods, I stormed out and shoved the singing kid into a pile of snow and told him to sing Lady Gaga or something. That'll show him.
After I got outta' jail (not really), I made a vow to the Floridian Gods in their Bermuda shorts I was ready to join their side.