A little southern snowstorm

Today I noticed people moving through the aisles of my local grocery store with concerned looks on their faces. I even overheard some of them chattering about a significant event that was to take place this weekend but did not catch what it was.

Had I missed something important on the news this morning. Puzzled, I quickly scanned the news app on my phone, but could only find a weather report about snow. Then it hit me, I live In the south and snow is a significant event, but not in a bad way. We like to get all fired up and pretend we’re in real danger. And those overblown newscasts, well that’s just icing on the cake. If we’re lucky, the governor will even call for a state of emergency and have a special news conference to tell us the roads are going to be slick. Ooooh scary, Thanks, governor.

As that storm approaches, we’ll watch its path as if it were a hurricane track saying things like, “I sure hope it misses us,” while secretly hoping for a blizzard so we can buy an “I Survived Snowmageddon” t-shirt.

When it does begin to snow, grandma will say, “Here it comes, boys.” Then after about ten minutes or so, some sleet will start hitting the roof, and uncle Bobby will chime in with a, “See, I told you it was going to be an ice storm.” Then things will really take a turn for the worse as the sound of rain takes its place. And we all know what comes after the sound of rain when the kids been expecting some snow; that’s right, crying like you ain’t never heard before.

So, let’s all pray for snow this weekend for the kids to play in. And if it doesn’t, let’s all pray for the weatherman. Bless his heart, he tried.