I am a comparer by nature. I don’t really feel badly about it. It’s sort of like how I have green eyes and chubby thighs…it’s just part of who I am. So, naturally, I am always comparing the differences between living in Atlanta and living in Toronto. Our year in the south was such a great one in so many ways. The biggest, of course, was the time we got to spend with my brother and sister-in-law and their three gorgeous girls. We miss them terribly, and my kids are counting down the days until we see them again.
But, you know, when I start feeling petty, I think about how amazing it was shopping-wise (TARGET) where they have this little thing called sales that don’t really seem to exist in the great white north (and don’t even try to tell me that a sweater marked down from $79.50 to $75 is a deal because it’s not. Not even close, Canada). I start to think about the things that we don’t have here (TARGET) like Girl Scout Cookies (and don’t even try to tell me that Girl Guide cookies are the same thing because they are not. Not even close, Canada). I start to think about how much more expensive it is to live in Canada…and we are not just talking about real estate (but hoo boy, let’s give us a big giant pat on the back for being the 8th most expensive city in the goddamn world). Even groceries are more expensive.
And you know what else is expensive?
I’ll give you a hint.
Last year my kids didn’t even have winter jackets. They had winter-esque jackets that I bought for under $20. I did buy Miss Emily a winter jacket because she was trekking up to Toronto and, of course, she left the $100 jacket in the airport. (I hope some pint-sized traveler is really, really warm right now). They didn’t need winter boots that have to be waterproof and weather-proof up to -40 degrees. Nope, they wore (TARGET) fashion boots. They didn’t need snowpants or hats or mittens or scarves.
I, of course, forgot about this little Canadian wrinkle. I mean, we moved back to Toronto in the summer. It was warm and lovely. My camera and I enjoyed the heck out of the fall and the stunning foliage that decorated our backyard.
And then, like that, I’m finding myself knee-deep in snow and my car thermometer is reading ridiculous number like -9 degrees and I don’t even know if that’s inÂ FahrenheitÂ orÂ Celsius and I don’t even bother finding out because really, in either system of measurement, it’s too bloody cold.
And my kids are wearing winter-esque jackets and my hats and scarves and emu boots and fake-emu boots and ohmigod I sent my son to school in his father’s snowpants because he didn’t have any and he wasn’t allowed to go outside at recess unless he had snowpants and so the poor thing had to go to school all abominable snowman-like. It simply slipped my mind that December in Toronto is COLD. And not just cold, it’s COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLD. So, yesterday I picked up my cold and wet children and ventured to the mall so we could spend over 90 minutes waiting for someone at Brown’s to help us because there were 800 other horrible parents desperate for waterproof boots for their kids too. So, $230 dollars later my kids are all Cougared and Soreled up. Then $49 later Josh has snowpants to call his own. They are now set. They have boots and coats and hats and scarves and snowpants.
So, if we are in a comparing mood and we are comparing winter in, say, Atlanta to winter in, say, Toronto…Atlanta wins. Hands down. Feet down too.
Because now I am broke.
And *I* still have cold and wet feet.