Yesterday I had to go out of the house and come back home again eight times. I counted.
And since it is negative a million outside, with a windchill of negative a billion, that means eight times putting on The Suit.
Eight times on with the snow pants, the Frankenboots (TM), the giant puffy full-length coat that feels like you are walking around in a sleeping bag. The hat, the scarf, the mittens made for people scaling Mount Everest, now used by suburbanites walking their kids to school.
And then, eight times off with the snow pants, the Frankentboots, etcetera. OH MY GOD, THE ETCETERA.
This weather, needless to say, is not exactly improving my grumpy mood.
Did you know that when you have to get dressed up like an astronaut just to run down to the corner store for whipping cream, it takes a lot longer to get out of the house? And every kid that you add to that exit strategy – another whole set of snow pants, coats, ETCETERA – more than doubles your prep time?
I was telling my friends last night that what I really need for Christmas is a t-shirt emblazoned with “SORRY I’M LATE.” It’ll just save me having to repeat myself.
All that in-and-out yesterday meant I did not have time to clean up the kitchen last night. So now I must go and sweep the floor, and wipe the counters, and wash bowls, and spoons, and measuring cups, and frying pans, etcetera. OH MY GOD, THE ETCETERA.