Timeline of a Blizzard, Part 2

12:15 p.m.: To end turning-off-TV crisis, I suggest playing outside.

12:40 p.m.: Everyone is bundled, gloves are matched, boots tied.

12:45 p.m.: Snowmaggedon is AWESOME! Snow angels, snowball fights, snow baseball, basketsnowball…

2 p.m.: Still outside! Snow is beautiful. Best. Blizzard. Ever.

2:22 p.m.: I notice the children’s faces appear to be frozen. I move closer to investigate, only to be struck with a snowball in the face from my firstborn. It slips down my shirt. “Time to go in!” I announce.

2:23 p.m.: What the heck am I supposed to do with eight drippy gloves, four snow-soaked hats, one frozen solid scarf and four frigid pairs of snowpants and coats? I send children upstairs to change. “I think it’s a good day for loungewear,” I tell them. Husband makes coughing sound that sounds an awful lot like a laugh, reminding me of conversation from earlier this week when I made the same statement. That conversation:

Me: “It’s a great day for loungewear.”

Husband to me: “Didn’t you wear those sweatpants Tuesday?”

Me to husband: “Yes.”

Husband to me: “And didn’t you wear yoga pants yesterday?”

Me to husband: “What’s your point?”

Husband: “No point. You look pretty.”

Daughter comes downstairs in frilly skirt, sparkly tights, denim jacket and rhinestone jewelry.

2:27 p.m.: Overly tired children melt down over hot chocolate mug selection and temperature.

2:30 p.m.: Silence as hot chocolate is consumed. Request for T.V. denied. I speculate how to eat a Pop-tart undetected.