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The other evening, I walked up the stairs to Ana’s room to kiss her good night.  The door was closed and there were all sorts of angry noises issuing from the room.  With a sigh and a roll of the eyes, I knocked on the door.

“Who is it?”  Ana’s voice sounded frustrated.

I opened the door and walked in to find her bouncing from the bed to the wall, making exasperated “uhh” sorts of noises.

“Honey, what is the matter now?”

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Yes, there are mounds of what look like glacial ice in my front and back yards.  Frankly, I don’t want to talk about it.  I’ve never seen so much snow in my life and I spent three years of it living in Maine.  In fact, if I never saw a snowflake again, I’d be happy.  My poor children actually want to go back to school.  And they have Monday off for President’s Day.  I suppose it would take a constitutional amendment to send them on Monday, regardless of a scheduled day off.  Anyway, enough of that.

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