Frozen Solid

This morning driving the kids to their schools, the dashboard thermometer in my car registered 11 degrees.  I have never seen it that low and I am NOT liking it.  Old, creaky bones and cold do not get along, especially when forced to walk on ice because some twit with a privileged attitude has taken up the ramp that leads from the parking lot to Thea's school and cannot move until the cones are removed after all the buses have off-loaded and driven away.

Dear Fellow Wicoff Parent with the Air of Entitlement: I am happy that your privileged little darling did not need to walk far in this bitter cold, but if I slip and fall because you are taking up all the non-icy space with your extra large suburban assault vehicle, I am going to punch your headlights out, literally and figuratively.  Be forewarned. Love and kisses, Me.

Micah's seeming a little under the weather this afternoon - just as Thea and I are finally pulling out from whatever had us down for several weeks, and more snow is in the forecast.  Lovely.