Oh, the Weather Outside Is Frightful
When I left the house this morning, I wasn’t expecting it to snow eight inches within the course of two hours. Had I been, I would have forgone the high heeled pumps and short-sleeved sweater in favor of boots and a down coat and I wouldn’t be sitting here now freezing my ass off and dreading the drive home.
One thing is certain, I won’t be driving anywhere once I do make it to the house, which is a shame considering that today is the 9th anniversary of my 29th birthday and Hugh had planned to take me out to dinner, a plan that he will be sorry to abandon. However, while I love me some gourmet food, I do not love it enough to risk our lives on snow-packed roads after dark and even Hugh cannot argue with that logic; he wants to live to see the 11th anniversary of my 29th birthday, after all.
All of which means one of two things; a, we are eating leftovers or b, Hugh will cook his famous Boy Scout hash for dinner.
Maybe taking our lives in our hands by driving to the restaurant in a blinding snowstorm isn’t such a bad option after all.