When it Snows in Tennessee...

I believe in global warming.

I can't give you hard statistics, nor can I recall the theoretic details of melting ice caps and unusual weather phenomena, but I can tell you what I think is proof of global warming...

When I was a kid, East Tennessee saw lots of snow, and as of the last five years, nothin' but empty promises from the weather man and a little white dust.

Until today.

Here's my little Red enjoying his first snow.

Now, I have to stop here for a second and give you a little insight into how much it snowed when I was a kid, and how little it snows now. This is important, because it will explain a very confusing picture at the end of this post of a child careening down a hill in a cardboard box.

Back then:

1. Snow days were factored into the school calendar for a reason, and we used every one of them.

2. Everyone owned gear. Water-proof gloves. Hat with a chin strap. Snow boots. And most importantly, a sled (or an inverted garbage can lid with the handle broken off, God bless the innovative Southerner)

3. Speaking of sleds, we all have at least three scars from crashing those things into curbs or a parked car at the bottom of a hill.

4. Every family had a snow routine. Play outside until you couldn't feel your fingers and toes. Sit by the fireplace while Mom rubbed feeling back into your limbs and gave you hot chocolate with marshmallows. Listen to Mom try to convince you to stay inside. Go back outside.

Now:

1. No.

2. No. Gloves, maybe.

3. Nope.

4. Afraid not.

That's right. Sad, sad, sad. The snow boots section at Target is like half a shelf. I'm guessing there are probably a few sleds for sale in Knoxville somewhere, but I've never seen them.

So today when the snow hit, we improvised. Try to follow me here, I'll start from top to bottom.

Hats, check. No longjohns, so each child was layered with two pajama tops. Red has a big head, so he needed a scarf since the neck holes of his pajama tops are stretched out. To keep legs warm, we pulled Biscuit's soccer socks all the way up to Red and Blondie's thighs. Then pajama bottoms. Then the ever-so-classy plastic shopping bags for the feet, then warm-up pants over that to hide the embarrassing plastic bags. A pair of socks over the bags, then insufficient shoes, but that's what the bags are for... water-proofing (we already know we're genius, you don't have to say it). Coats, check. Mittens, check. Except for Biscuit, who had to wear his mother's gloves, which explains why he looked like Edward Scissorhands.

And now for the pictures. As you will see, we do not own a sled, but our children will not be denied.

TDH caught this picture of me on our snow day. Joy.