I'm Dreaming of a Not-Quite-So-White Christmas

Dear Old Man Winter,

It has come to my attention that you seem to have misread the date on your invitation to this year's festivities. My calendar quite clearly indicates that your arrival is scheduled for tomorrow.

However, it has not escaped my notice that you have descended upon this part of the world somewhat earlier than requested. In point of fact, sir, your eagerness to join us has gone beyond an innocent knock at the door five minutes before the appointed time (causing quiet consternation on the part of the hostess who rushes to put away the vacuum, smooth her hair, and pretend she is not huffing and puffing when she throws open the door and welcomes you heartily) but has, instead, turned what was to be an enjoyable visit into a prolonged seige.

You are perhaps unaware of the difficulties posed by your unlooked-for coming, and so I feel an obligation to point out to you the following statistics:

- 2.5: additional hours it took to drive to Manitoba three weeks ago
- 2: number of church services cancelled this month due to too much snow
- 5: amount (in pounds) of extra bean casserole the PM family was forced to consume after missing the church potluck due to one formerly mentioned church cancellation
- 45x2x3: number (in minutes) added to my commute due to snow-filled parking lanes that forced cars to park (where else) in the driving lanes
- 1: collapsed Metrodome roof
- 2: useless Vikings/Giants tickets

I do apologize if some of the preparations I made for your coming (namely, washing parkas in August, buying mittens in September, loading up with root vegetables in October, and buying two sets of winter tires, kids skis, outdoor running gear, and a new parka in November) may have suggested that I was anxious for you to arrive. In truth, this was more "ant vs. grasshopper" than it was "let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."

In closing, please consider that your actions of late have not only pushed our cities' snow removal equipment beyond capacity but that you have also brought about a premature return of my annual bout of seasonal affective disorder.

We are out of hot chocolate, the Christmas tree lights are burning out, and the bus stops are merely snow drifts with signs stuck in them.

In short, I request that you cease and desist.

Sincerely yours,

PM