Today marks the first "real" snowfall of the year, and accompanying are the ubiquitous "Warzecha, are we gonna have school tomorrow?" Followed by my sincere and certain, "yes, no, maybe, I don't know."
First, I write "real" since our only true storm of this year took place last year, in October, before winter began, and even before the regular temperatures dipped below 60 degrees during the day. Discrediting that storm for its fortuitousness, this winter has been extremely quiet. Too quiet, even eerie. Perhaps even foreboding, which is why this storm doesn't even feel like the whopper that were awaiting.
If we don't have school tomorrow, I can led some credibility to this storm but if, as the forecast predicts, the storm turns into rain and then only a tiny bit more snow tomorrow morning and it only brings with it a delay or nothing at all, then I can't say this winter was even a "winter."
Remember waking up as a child to scan the television for the list of closures, praying you'd see your school? Well, there are times in which teachers do the same thing; we hope for the reprieve from a day of whining and resentful students who only hours before had awoken with the greatest of hopes for a snow day. These days are often the worst since I will most likely find my attendance sheet dwindled, and will be met with pent-up frustration and teenage angst.
And all the while in the back of my mind is the constant thought: is this it?