MY TEENAGE SON is getting his birthday wish today—a snow day.
Last night he asks, “Do you think we’ll have school tomorrow?”
His dad and I look at each other. “Maybe a late start,” Randy says.
Later, as we’re watching the 10 o’clock news, announcements of late-school starts and closings are already scrolling across the bottom of the television screen. To Caleb’s disappointment, “Faribault” does not follow “Fairmont,” meaning classes are on as normal.
But travel conditions apparently change overnight, when another several inches of snow fall atop the eight or so inches already on the ground. Or perhaps school and transportation officials realize safety should come first.
My husband, who has switched on the TV before leaving for work Tuesday morning, tells me that Faribault schools are starting two hours late. OK, I mumble as I kiss him goodbye, then pull the bed covers tighter around my neck.
Soon I am up, though, unable to sleep. At 8 a.m., I switch on the local news. Just to make sure. Sometimes situations change. After learning that the Senior Clothes Closet, the Rice County Day Activity Center and a few other places are closed, the radio announcer gets to the schools. I’m standing in my kitchen, wondering why he doesn’t announce the school delays and closings first.
“All of these schools are closed,” he finally says, beginning a long list that includes Faribault and almost every other nearby school.
My boy, my now 16-year-old birthday boy will be so happy, oh, so happy to hear this news, when he finally awakens. I expect that will be around noon.
© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling