Warning: Contents May Be Hot. Or Freezing. Or Something.

OK OK OK, Winter. We get it.

Snow. You has it.

You’ve shut down entire towns. You’ve made your point. Now back it off or I’m going to have to hurt you a little bit.

We’ve got 12 inches out there with a couple inches of solid ice underneath. Perfect.

I’m not sure I can stand the children home again for another friggin’ snow day. Do you suppose, when the children are still in school in July making up snow days, that they will have the Fourth off for fireworks?

******

We almost had a crisis here at Chez HunkyDory. Remember how much Elli loves jamming her head just as close to the heater as possible? Well, the heater worked a little too well, turned on itself, and committed suicide. When I hit the button to turn it on and nothing happened, Elli’s face was priceless. Mother, what seems to be the malfunction? Try it again. I fussed with it some, unplugged and replugged, shook it, closed one eye and peered deep into its vents, to no avail. Now she was desperate. Mother, why have you ceased the precious heat, and thus your love for me? Make the heat come out. I’ll be good. I promise. I tried to explain to the poor little fuzzy girl that I would have to go buy her a new heater, but she plunged into a deep depression that lasted a full half hour. Which in Jack Russell Terrier Time is approximately 3 days. She even tried to make do with the regular bathroom heat vent, but it just wasn’t the same. She even rested her head directly against the grate, but this was a sadly inferior substitute. She flopped flat on the floor, head between her paws, and emitted a heavy despair-laden sigh. She looked up through her eyelashes at me as if to say And what have I ever done to you, Mother, to deserve such a heinous punishment? I pray, just tell me, and I shall attempt to make amends immediately.

I shopped for just the right heater for my fuzzy girl. It had to be just right. The heat output had to be low to the ground and not too concentrated, because this fear I had of her trotting out of the bathroom with her head aflame was quite powerful. A few days ago, I found just the right one at Target and brought it home for her. As soon as I took it out of the box and placed it on the floor, it’s as if she instinctively knew exactly what the new gadget was before I even plugged it in. And now the delicate balance to the universe has been restored, and again all is right with her world. She does love her some intense electric heat.

Rip it, roll it, and punch it, dude. That’s hot.

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