By M. Scott Morris/NEMS Daily Journal
Sunday was the best day ever, according to my daughter, Olivia. She kept saying it, “This is the best day ever. This is the best day ever.”
The best day? In all your eight years? Really?
“It’s the best snow day ever,” she amended.
She said this at about 9:30 p.m., when we wrapped ourselves up and walked through the neighborhood while snow fell on and around us.
I was the first one to get a running start and slide several feet on the slippery stuff. My 5-year-old son, Evan, copied me and promptly fell face-first.
For a moment, I felt guilty for setting a bad example, but he popped up with a snow-covered grin and tried again. He fell again but eventually figured it out.
It was fun, sliding like that, but I had to quit before we’d completed half a block in the neighborhood. My knee and hamstring told me it was time to put away childish things.
Speaking of adult things, I got a Mister Rogers’ approved, blue zip-up sweater jacket for Christmas from Mom. It’s been a cozy companion during our burst of Canadian air.
My wife decided it needed to be washed, and we had to use a sandblaster to get it off me.
The sweater is clean now, and I’ve been trying to think pure thoughts so it won’t get dirty as quickly as it did the first time.
Pure thoughts don’t always come easily for me, but an attitude to gratitude helps. So aren’t we glad the power stayed on during our winter break?
I’ve talked with several parents, who love – I mean absolutely, thoroughly and otherwise completely LOVE – their kids, but three unexpected snow days from school had Northeast Mississippi nerves frayed.
Imagine if the kids had been stuck at home without TV, without lights, without heat. For the past few days, I’ve been humming that old “Schoolhouse Rock!” song. You know the one: “Electricity, Electricity. We wouldn’t survive our kids without Electricity.”
Let’s not forget Bix, the family’s Mississippi mudhound. He had nothing intelligent to say this past week, but his example spoke volumes.
Bix let his wild side loose on Monday, burying a thick stick in the snow, tossing it into the air and repeating until snow covered all the gray hairs on his snout. He’s been in recovery mode ever since. I admire his dedication to fun, no matter the cost.
On the subject of fun, Sunday’s snow is one of the reasons I doubt I’ll ever move up North.
A few Alabama friends and a pair of Louisiana in-laws have found themselves in the land of snows aplenty. Wintry precipitation has lost most of its charm for them. I suspect it’d be difficult to live in a place where the same stuff that made Sunday the best day ever would become a nuisance.
On that note, it’s about time for Mississippi’s traditional winter climate to start asserting itself again, don’t y’all think?
M. Scott Morris is a Daily Journal entertainment writer. Contact him at (662) 678-1589 or firstname.lastname@example.org.