Christmas vacation is not supposed to start until Friday, leaving me one whole week to fill with activities to keep the children happy, stimulated and out of my hair. I planned to use this week to write the script for my final radio show, which tapes on Wednesday, and to do some desperately-needed food shopping. The cupboards are bare.
But today is a snow day!
So the offspring are here, making demands to go shopping ("We're bored!"), messing up the kitchen with their attempts at combining oatmeal with baking chips, blaring the television, etc.
B came along with his snowplow, so now I can actually get out of the driveway to go to the supermarket, although I'm not sure what shape the roads are in. The town is usually good about clearing them before morning rush hour, but they've fallen down on the job this time.
I have three packages to take to the post office, too, one of which is going to England. Another is going to Indiana and really must be there by Friday.
Okay, here comes Child Two, tramping into the house in her snowy boots after I explicitly told her that she is to remove them in the garage and come up through the basement.
Am I speaking Swahili?
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