That collective groan you may have heard Monday morning was every kid in my town waking up, looking outside and realizing they had been totally screwed over. There was no six to eight inches of snow. There was no school cancellation. There was no pack of snow-booted grade schoolers plodding over to the sledding hill.
Parents, like me, had assured their kids that school was going to be cancelled and there would be plenty of snow to play in.
“See, the weatherman is showing snow graphics! Inch-depths! Commuter warnings!”
All our promises did was once again prove to our kids that we don’t know squat.
“Sure, dad, study hard and get into Yale.”
“You bet, mom, Jager shots and piercings are a bad idea.”