I miss snow days. I miss the anticipation – watching the news channel to see if maybe, just maybe, my school would be among the ones closed. Then, after a blissful extra couple hours of sleep, my mother would awaken me. We would have bacon and eggs and biscuits. You know, the things we would only eat on the weekend because there was just no time in the morning. I would pull on my snow pants – you know, the oh-so-attractive overalls – and about five layers of shirts and long underwear and huge ski gloves. I would meet my friends Lily and Rachel (we all lived within walking distance of one another) and we would make snowmen or get into a snowball fight with our brothers. Building a fort. Maybe, if it was a really good snow, we would take trash bags and go sledding down the hill by Lily’s house. This was before they added the new development. Usually, one of us would end up in a ditch but we still did it. And then, after we had worn ourselves out and every piece of clothing was soaked through we would curl up on the couch at one of our houses (usually Lily’s because they were wealthy and had a bigger house) and one of our mom’s would make us hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and we would watch Disney movies. I miss snow days.