Do bears actually hibernate or is that one of those urban legends like Richard Gere and the butt gerbils and that $250 Neiman Marcus chocolate chip cookie story?
Well, either way, I would like to make hibernation a thing for humans, especially this human right here. Yesterday, whilst minding my own business, I was about to show that little Candy Crush owl who is boss but my iphone was all…”I don’t detect your fingers, are you even a human? Wait…are you a Cullen?” You guys, my circulation is so poor that my phone doesn’t even think that I’m human. Rest assured, though, I put on my fancy tech gloves and put that owl to shame.
I have mentioned before that I am no fan of winter.
I will probably mention it many, many more times.
I’m not sorry either.
(Don’t let this smile fool you, there are under-my-breath expletives being uttered behind the scenes. The kind of breath you can see too.)
(Breath is not something anyone should ever have to see.)
I mean, sure, I’ll happily sit by the fire and snap pictures of pretty falling snow on the phone. But that’s the extent of my love.
Dark at 4pm? NOPE. Constant slushy, wet feet? No thanks. Inability to be ever get warm? Ick. SCRAPING ICE OFF MY WINDSHIELD? Forget about it. I don’t skate, ski, sled, shovel, snowshoe or any other s activities.. Bulky, weatherproof boots are the quickest way to ruin an adorable outfit and I can’t even find a pair of tights that doesn’t go all the way up past my nipples in a full body stocking contraption (….although I do hear that onesies are in style. WHY ARE YOU IN STYLE ONESIES?). And let’s not get me started on the hair static and Sahara dry skin.
I wish I loved the snow an eighth as much as my children love the snow. A twelfth even, I’d take. It’s amazing. My children complain about nearly everything. They are the “The two slices of bread on this sandwich are not properly aligned, this sandwich is garbage” type. And yet. They’ll toboggan one hundred thousand times in a row and not complain about cold hands and feet or all the uphill walking.
But try to get them to take their hoodies up one flight of stairs in our house and they’ll tell you about their achy knees and sore feet.
“COLD? WHAT COLD, MAMA?! But let me tell you about this papercut I got that will probably kill me tonight….”
Now, if you’ll excuse me I have some work to do on my important hibernation-until-May plans. I mean, that’s why they have food delivery, Netflix, and online shopping, right?