I have mixed feelings about winter. I like snow. I like having an excuse to drink more coffee. I like my almost-floorlength brown down coat affectionately known as “the turd log.”
I don’t enjoy shoveling snow at night to get my damn car up my damn driveway. I don’t enjoy losing circulation in my fingers and toes every five minutes — they turn all purplish-white and lifeless. Ew. I don’t enjoy runny noses and the inevitable snotcicles that form as a result of runny noses.
Sometimes I think I should retire and move to Florida. I could learn to love shuffleboard.
BUT — then I remember my one true winter love. My heated mattress pad. Few things in life are better than sliding into a pre-warmed bed and falling asleep on little warming coils. I’ll admit, my relationship with my mattress pad isn’t all sunshine and lollipops. I occasionally leave it on “high” all night, and it roasts me like a little burrito baby. When this happens, I typically wake up around 4:00 a.m., sweating and slightly delirious.
It’s bitterly cold tonight. My garbage can froze to the driveway, and I had to kick it four times before it would budge. My toes were frozen by the time I reached the end of the driveway, so I couldn’t even kick that well. And I’m pretty sure a double snotcicle had formed by the time I made it back to the house.
BUT — like the little snowman on the Campbell’s soup commercial who melts into a kid, all the unfriendly cold memories melt away when I crawl into my pre-warmed bed. I melt into a Laura who doesn’t mind winter so much.
Perhaps I’ll stay in Iowa.