This is when it snowed in February 2011. Look closely — you can see a distinct lack of socks with those Crocs. And this is why we won the special Eagle-eyed Observers Award during the annual regional Parents of the Year ceremony!
The scene: 7 a.m. at my house and the kids are getting ready for school.
No. 3 has fired up the Keurig for hot chocolate. He and his sister are both wearing sweatshirts and — gasp! — pants.
The kitchen door is swung open, letting in a chilly morning breeze. The weather page calls for a high of 82. Hello, fall! We’re so happy to see you.
Because we are desert dwellers, anything below 85 qualifies as long sleeves weather, and it truly is brisk in the morning when it’s time to leave for school. We don’t quite know how to cope with, uh, “cold.” No. 2 will blow a good hour debating the merits of her fuzzy sherpa Mickey Mouse jacket versus the UA sweatshirt. You know she’s gotta be cold when she dares not to wear her Birkenstocks and opts for closed-toed shoes. That is the surest sign winter is coming.
When she was in middle school, she went through a phase where she was never cold. I wasn’t concerned because I grew up here and had a friend in high school who made it his mission to never wear pants.
I would get calls from the office because she’d show up at school without a jacket. I made her take one just to wear past the office and then she could take it off.
She got over that phase and now embraces “winter” — to a point. She considers that to be 70 degrees. But if it drops below that, brrrrr, she’s more bitter than the air outside.
When it snowed in February eight years ago, we barely got anything on our end of town, so we bundled up and trooped out to Saguaro National Park East where a ton of the white stuff had fallen. The kids were having a field day — until No. 3 complained his foot hurt. We looked down and he had slipped out of the house wearing Crocs. No socks. Neither his dad nor I had looked down at anyone’s feet. There, stuck to the Croc was a chunk of cholla cactus.
Let me just say that when the kids were little, I routinely gave thanks that I did not have to bundle them up for actual real winter.
So now we’re getting ready to routinely wear jackets and jeans and as long as mine still fit, I’ll be fine with the change of wardrobe. Also, I have a new pair of shearling-lined shoes I’m anxious to wear. So yeah, go ahead, bring it, “winter.”