I remember just what it was like: waking up pre-dawn and having that thought streak through your head like an arrow "SNOW!" Leaning over to the window and prying open the shade to gaze out at the lawn. Was it white? Was it white enough? Turning on the radio by the bed, and scrolling away impatiently trying to catch a station announcing the school closures. Waiting, breath held, for the announcement. Perhaps being joined by a little brother or two (allowed on your bed only to increase the fervent Snow Day Prayer energy.) It was a little like rolling the dice - "Big Money, No Whammies." Here, a whammy would be a 1 or 2 hour delay - just enough to throw the parentals off their game (and into Grumpsville), but not enough to get you out of anything. And, oh, the announcement of YOUR county's schools being closed! The joy! The excitement of romping in the snow with the neighbor kids (until Mikey loses a boot and is convinced he has frostbite, even thought he can SEE the house from where he is lying.) The grilled cheese and tomato soup you can almost taste!
I miss that incipient excitement, that surrender of responsibilities. It might just be time for me to call a growns-up Snow Day of my own.