I was glad about that because I was so bummed about this whole August thing and I just wanted some time to chill without having to see him every day.
Also, waking up to a snow day is just about my favorite thing in the world.
I love that feeling when you first open your eyes in the morning and you don't even know why everything seems different than usual.
Then it hits you: Everything is quiet. No cars honking. No buses going down the street.
Then you run over to the window, and outside everything is covered in white: the sidewalks, the trees, the cars on the street, your windowpanes.
And when that happens on a school day and you find out your school is closed, well, I don't care how old I get:
I'm always going to think that that's the best feeling in the world.
And I'm never going to be one of those grown-ups that use an umbrella when it's snowing—ever.
Dad's school was closed, too, so he took me and Jamie sledding down Skeleton Hill in the park.
They say a little kid broke his neck while sledding down that hill a few years ago, but I don't know if this is actually true or just one of those legends.
On the way home, I spotted this banged-up wooden sled kind of propped up against the Old Indian Rock monument.
Dad said to leave it, it was just garbage, but something told me it would make the greatest sled ever.
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