Tuesday morning’s weather forecast was the stuff that Minnesota dreams are made of.
“Snow, heavy at times. Gusty winds will lead to blizzard conditions. High 28F. Winds NNE at 25 to 40 mph. Chance of snow 100%. Snow accumulating 5 to 8 inches. Winds could occasionally gust over 50 mph.”
Yup. One hundred percent. Up to eight inches. Fifty miles per hour.
School superintendents slammed school doors faster than an angry woman leaving the kitchen. Bam! No school today, kids.
Collective sighs of relief were expelled over unfinished term papers — all due Tuesday, of course. Spelling words remained unlearned. Math assignments slid slowly onto the dining room table. ...
“It’s going to be a snow day.”
No one was more delighted than the teachers who dropped their lesson planners Monday evening to watch Seinfeld reruns until 1 a.m. They set their alarm clocks for 9 a.m. and then turned them off altogether.
No one was more horrified than parents. “You mean ... they’re going to be home? All day? Just us? As a family?”
The one-hour-of-video-games-per-day rule was immediately suspended and replaced with the if-no-one-is-bleeding-I-don’t-want-to-hear-about-it rule.
Teenagers woke up at 1 p.m. Tuesday wondering if the storm had closed the mall and if there was any leftover pizza for breakfast. Preschoolers woke up at the usual time — 6:52 a.m. — wondering why they have feet but cats have paws.
But the rising sun revealed — no snow? Just wind? Treetops whipped back and forth but not a snow flake was to be seen anywhere.
The hearts of school children skipped another beat. Could this be the day their ultimate dream is realized? Had school been called off for no reason at all?
One local district offered its reasons for calling off school, “The safety of our students and staff remains our top priority. Stay inside and stay safe.”
For Rock County high school students that raised only one question, “Shall we go to Sioux Falls?”
Oh sure, there was the Department of Transportation warning that “rescue may not be a possibility” during this particular storm.
Something about eight inches of snow and fifty-mile-per-hour winds.
The stuff that Minnesota dreams — or nightmares, depending on your perspective — are made of.