I was awakened this morning by the snow, in the form of my 6-year-old son, padding into my room like a freight train on tip-toe.

“I need to tell you guys something!” he announced, not exactly in the dulcet tones that one would expect – nay, crave in the early morning hours.

“The radio guy said that between A.M. and P.M. or something, there’s a chance of snow showers!”

I figured it was likely that he’d missed the part where it said “over the mountains” so I didn’t think much of it, just opened the blankets and urged him to cuddle up and get a little more sleep, after a whispered explanation about how the weather guys are generally just winging it, so he shouldn’t get his hopes up. And it being 6am, I wasn’t ready to get out of bed. The only one in the house who’s more of a grumpy bear than he is when he doesn’t get enough sleep is me.

But when you’ve teased a 6-year-old boy with the possibility of snow showers – something he’s only seen a couple of times in his life – it’s like a shot of adrenaline to his heart. He tossed, turned and wiggled, I tossed, turned and wiggled, and finally I gave in and we both got up. At 6am. I’m still recovering from the trauma. It didn’t even occur to me to look out the window, and the lure of early morning Jimmy Neutron on the TV drove all thoughts of snow out of Nicky’s head, apparently. We only found out that there actually was snow when my husband, taking the warning seriously, got up to leave for work early just in case the roads were bad. And there it was – real live snow. It lasted for about 10 minutes and by 8 when the older kids got up there was little of it left beyond a sprinkling on the lawn, like powdered sugar on green and fuzzy french toast. Wow, that’s gross.

I’m not immune to the magic of snow, but part of me was a little relieved to see it disappear so quickly. Mostly because I would’ve felt obligated to wrap my children up warmly and release them out to play in it, and while I’m not above sticking socks on their hands in lieu of mittens, I would be hard pressed to fashion a winter coat substitute for Khy. He outgrew his last year and it was such a mild winter that we never bothered to buy him a new one.

Still, weather guy is threatening more snow tomorrow morning, so I might get another chance to put my powers of creativity to work on that coat. I did, however, urge Nicky to stay in bed until at least 8 this time, no matter what the radio guys promise him.

Forget the winter coats – I need to buy mini-marshmallows for the hot chocolate. I have my priorities.

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