Monday, March 2, 2009

ah, snow day memories...

my most vivid snow day memory is from 6th grade. my parents were on a 2-week boondoggle in africa and switzerland (that's right, ethel. everyone's been there but you.) and i was staying with my friend when a for-real blizzard, not this maryland nonsense, hit us. 

her mom ended up staying home with us but desperately wanted us to go outside and play. so much so that she chased us around the house with a dish towel and butcher knife. yep, butcher knife. i was never so scared and scooted myself right outside. my friend put up more of a fight, but didn't get stabbed. (i realize this story would be better if she had been stabbed and i'm sorry about that.)

what's your best snow day memory? or, feel free to one up me with a stab story of your own...


  1. Many years ago on a particularly icy snow day, I, my brother, and his neighborhood friend were enjoying the freedom that came from a day off by standing around a frozen over turtle sandbox (all the cool kids had them.) My brother inspected a particularly awesome piece of ice shaped like a daggar. This winter marvel was a few inches thick and the size of a baby hog's head. Obviously, breaking it was in order. We stood over the frozen turtle and watched in slow motion as my brother threw the ice down as hard as he could, awaiting a spectacular shatter. Turns out, ice can bounce. Thats right...the ice bounced directly into my face, replacing the spectacular shatter of ice with a shatter of flesh and blood. My brother, the ice block, and that damn turtle landed me in the docs office in no time. Not bitter though...just sayin.

  2. Let me paint you a nice picture...It's January of 1991 in a small town called Danbury, Connecticut and a kindergartner (me) woke up to expereince the joy of her first snow day.

    I get on my awesome early 90's hot pink snowsuit and head outside to play in the snow with my brother and dad. For some reason, my brother and I thought it would be fun to follow my dad up and down the driveway and sidewalk with our little red plastic shovels, as he was actually clearing the drive.

    We are having a blast- running around, putting snow back on the drive, where my dad had just cleared it off, then BAM! I fall to the ground and see blood everywhere and see my mom running out of the house toward me...turns out my brother had it out for me, and decided it would make the day more interesting if he threw his shovel over his shoulder where I was standing and the corner of the shovel hit me in the forehead.

    It took a few hours and 2 stiches to fix me up, and to this day I still have a small scar - best part is, 4 years later, he did the same thing to our younger sister, who needed 4 stiches across her nose (he must have hated her more haha).

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