The Rapidly Declining Appeal of the Snow Day

Snow Day #1

Wheeeeee! Snow day! We’re totally free to do whatever we want! Jump up here in bed with me, boy, and tell me about your dreams. You were punching bad animals in the face? Oh, so sweet. You’re going to list all the animals? Still so sweet! Let’s go have oatmeal, real oatmeal I’ll make on the stove with chopped apples and raisins!

Cartoon time! We’ll sit here all day and watch cartoon and perform no hygienic procedures whatsoever. Of course you can have popsicles. It’s a snow day! Let me put something in the slow cooker for dinner, like a real mother! Look at this shit, I’m gonna put in a whole chicken, and I’m gonna rub it with spices first! A whole motherfucking bird! Yes, go ahead and watch some more of those Kinder surprise egg videos on YouTube while Mommy works on her laptop. Hours upon hours of people unwrapping chocolate eggs with tiny cheaply-produced plastic toys inside? Who cares?! Snow day!

Time for snuggles and reading!!! Look, Daddy’s home already!! Tent-making and snuggling with Daddy!! Oh man, I have the best family!!!!


Roast chicken



Snow Day #2

Here comes the boy, wide awake and narrating his mental adventures. Man, that is a fucked-up dream. It also doesn’t make any sense. Is he still talking? I need to make breakfast. No, you can’t have popsicles. What the hell kind of mother would let you have popsicles all day long?

It’s not even 8 a.m. and I just raised my voice.

YES, you have to go potty. I know you “doed it yesterday,” but going potty is something we have to do every day, multiple times. You’re going limp and screaming. Fuck, I’m starting to panic. I need to get out of here. I haven’t washed my hair in two days and these sweatpants have boogers on them.

Please don’t crawl on Mommy’s head while she’s trying to work. Don’t—you just jumped on the laptop. That’s very expensive. It’s break-a-ble, remember? I don’t want to carry you around on my shoulders right now. Cartoon Network is still on and this the seventh time I’ve seen the commercial for those animal hats with the legs you can pull on. No, I’m not ordering those. Those commercials are for grandparents with credit cards and a poor sense of judgment. I’m not a very good mother for letting you watch so much TV. Have I ever done anything right as a mother?

Oh! You took everything out of the desk drawers again and shoved some things down the heat vent. I’m just going to stand here with a spoon in front of the open fridge, stress eating this Nutter Butter/vanilla pudding monstrosity I saw on Pinterest and made yesterday when I was still young and fresh and had the wherewithal to layer Nutter Butters and season whole birds.

Tent-making? Again? I can’t breathe under here. The dog smells and—ow! You just kicked me in the JAW! NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS SNUGGLY.

I don’t think I love my family. I don’t think I love anyone. I just tried to feel love, and I couldn’t. I’m a numb and broken woman with dirty hair and boogery sweatpants and I need to go back to work tomorrow.