MODERN DAD | By Jon Show
I love snow days like a five-year-old loves snow days. Once I find out snow is in the forecast I start checking the weather app every six hours for any changes.
“Dad, the weather app says the chance of snow is up to 100% and it’s now three to five inches,” said the Blonde Bomber, five days prior to last month’s storm.
“I know honey,” I replied. “I already checked it twice this morning.”
The best part about being an adult on a snow day is that you have the means to pull out all the stops. I may not be a model parent but I’m pretty close to perfect on snow days, which I can largely attribute to preparation.
CSI: Critical Sled Inventory
Our sleds are inventoried around Thanksgiving to make sure we still have them and that they’re in one piece. Why? Because for some reason my kids sled on grassy hills in the middle of summer. If necessary I buy new sleds to avoid the inevitable snow-is-coming-sled-grab.
I do the same inventory check with gloves, snow pants and boots. You didn’t have snow gear as a kid? Neither did I, but decent snow gear means no whining about having cold or wet hands and feet and I don’t like going inside on snow days. My kids get snow gear.
Provisions
Snow day food is purchased at least two days prior to everyone else’s snow day panic shopping, and I’m not talking bread and milk. Our snow days are a culinary journey of comfort food, smoked meats, snacks and grilled hot dogs. Snow day grilled hot dogs are a top five hot dog.
When the kids were younger, instead of taking pictures for Instagram I started editing two- or three-minute snow day videos.
The first year I made a video was the winter of 2014. We got an absurd amount of snow and Future Man and I packed up and didn’t come home until dark. I dragged him around our neighborhood on a sled and he rode a “snow board” I fashioned out of a skateboard deck.
Best practices
The Blonde Bomber – only three at that point – didn’t join us that year because her gloves and boots kept falling off, so during the following year’s snow day I duct taped them to her snow suit and we stayed out for hours. Now duct tape is a best practice.
There will be blood
A few years later we had an ice storm and I tied a sled to my mountain bike and took turns running the kids around the neighborhood like they were tubing behind a boat. We had to stop after I took one turn a little wide and put Future Man into a mailbox. A good snow day always comes with a little blood. No foul.
The last snow day we had in 2019 the kids decided they were too old to take part in any videos and too old to sled with us. Future Man went off with his friend to scout uncharted hills like a suburban Lewis & Clark. The Blonde Bomber went missing for much of the day and reappeared about five minutes before we were planning to worry about her.
Anticipation
With two winters of snow-less pent up frustration, anticipation for this winter’s snow day was big.
When the flakes first fell on that Sunday morning the Mother of Dragons found Future Man curled up in a blanket outside at 5:30 am. He and his friend Curly had been up since three. An hour later the kids and their friends were outside playing despite having only trace amounts of snow on the ground.
They came back in briefly around nine for sausage cheddar biscuits and bacon before heading back out to two inches of accumulation. The Mother of Dragons and I joined them later in the morning.
Did I shovel before heading out? No. I hate shoveling. Half the reason I went to college was so I didn’t have to shovel the driveway anymore.
The kids spent the day on at least six different hills covering a three mile loop – coming inside only for grilled hot dogs at lunch and dry gear when Future Man’s friend fell in the lake.
More blood
The dads vs. kids late afternoon snowball fight was evenly contested and only left one dad with a bloody face. It’s not a good snowball fight unless someone cries or bleeds.
We also got to see the Crossfit Couple’s one-year-old daughter go sledding on her first snow day. Mr. Crossfit, like any good dad, got a little excited and accidentally almost pushed her into a mailbox on her sled. Hey, it’s what good dads do on snow days.
At the end of the day we lit a fire pit in the driveway and snacked on smoked chicken and smores.
With sunset on the horizon we headed inside and the kids all fell asleep while I warmed up spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread. I awoke them by loudly banging a wooden spoon on a pot, fed them dinner and they were back asleep for good at 7:30 pm.
Bourbon and episodes of Yellowstone for me and the Mother of Dragons.
I remember that first epic snow day when both of the kids were old enough to spend all day outside. The Blonde Bomber fell asleep on the couch and had to be carried upstairs. Future Man, who was so tired he could barely walk under his own power, curled up in bed and looked up at me with his eyes half open.
“Best snow day of my life,” he said.
They all are buddy. Every single one of them.
Jon Show lives in Robbins Park with his wife, who he calls “The Mother of Dragons.” Their 10-year-old son is “Future Man” and their 7-year-old daughter is “The Blonde Bomber.” Their dog is actually named Lightning.
