My family just took a skiing trip that almost got ruined by too much snow.
Now I know that lots of people reading this live in places that have been pummeled by snow and cold all winter long. And you’re not likely to feel too terribly sympathetic for us. But I live in Nawth Caylina, a place where, in the time I’ve lived here, kids have been ordered to stay home from school because there was a 30% chance of scattered snow showers.
So when the real stuff actually did fall in the middle of February, chaos ensued. Probably six inches worth of white flakiness hit the ground, the kids were out of school for three days, and businesses everywhere were shut down, or making employees work from home.
These were the most unhappy snow days I’ve ever experienced. Because I was worried about how in the heck my fam was going to navigate our way to our paralyzed local international airport and make our way – on purpose – to snow. “Real men”-type snow, in Utah.
We’d been dreaming of this trip for years and years, because it was going to bring together the whole family for several days of mountainous fun. What held us up for a couple years was the unfortunate fact that No. 3 son, now 18, hates to ski, and couldn’t be convinced to go, even to just spend his time flirting with girls in the lodge. Once he very enthusiastically told us that he wouldn’t feel left out by not being forced to do something he despised doing, the big barrier was finding a time that worked into the schedules of No. 1 (age 29) and No. 2 (age 28). The silver lining to this conundrum was that it gave us a few years to accumulate the moolah to pay for it all, thus enabling us to finally schedule the dream trip at a time that coincided with 1) Nawth Caylina’s worst snowstorm in 10 years, 2) my wife being forced to miss all the hassles of 1) AND not enjoying the joys of constantly haranguing No. 4 and No. 5 to use their snow days wisely and pack for the trip, and 3), No. 5 son deciding that he also hates to ski. Oh yay!