Storm Talker

I’ve lived in New Jersey for six years now. In that time the local forecasters told us to expect rain and we saw sun. They worried us about blizzards and we got flurries. On the rare occasion they actually are correct in their prediction, and a storm actually makes its way to our neck of the woods, the meteorologists behave as if we should stock up on food for several weeks and take refuge in our bomb shelters.

Dude. It’s a little snow.

We are expecting one of those big snowfalls tonight and I am reminded of one of my favorite stories about impending bad weather. My husband and I were living in Manhattan at the time. New York City rarely gets a huge dumping of snow, and even when it does, the streets are cleared quicker than the papers are delivered. The only time I ever saw a store close was during a blackout, and those don’t happen in the winter (as far as I know). But one winter after Lily was born my father-in-law called my husband and asked what we had done to prepare for the Nor’easter headed our way.

“Um, nothing,” my husband answered.

“Didn’t you get groceries?” my father-in-law asked.

“Nope,” my husband replied.

“What are you going to do if the store is closed?” my FIL demanded to know.

“Probably walk down the street and see if that one’s open,” dear husband replied.

“Well, what if that one’s closed?”

“Guess I’ll have to walk across the street and check that one out,” my husband said. “Dad, there’s a store on every corner in Manhattan. I think we’ll be okay.”

Frustrated, my FIL called out to his wife: “They’ve got their heads in the sand, Linda!”

Hope those of you affected by the snowstorm are stocked up and ready to take shelter if necessary. You'll put my father-in-law's mind at ease if you do.

Photo by Bill Silvermintz, courtesy of stock.xchng