Steinbeck, have you looked outside?
I don’t want to. I made the mistake of looking out a little while ago and it was white. I guess the angels were washing their wings and they spilled detergent all over the place.
You can believe that little tale you made up if you want to, but I know I’m not putting my paws in that white stuff. I’ve learned that the white is cold! And I also have the feeling it’s going to be around for a long time now and it’s going to bring all its friends and relatives and it’s going to pile up on everything, and then it’s going to take Mom longer to get home from work and then we won’t get our supper until late and then she’s going to be crabby about driving on ice and then she won’t settle down and watch a movie with us and then…………..
Take a breath, Hemingway. I remember the cold and I don’t like it. Let’s just turn our backs on it and stare at that flower.