"UNCLE!"

As I was trudging down the driveway this morning (in my suit and dress coat) behind the sputtering snowblower, I couldn't help but think about the unique challenges that February presents.  At this point in the winter, absolutely everything that I own is filthy.  From the salt-splattered snowbanks on my front lawn to the food-encrusted back seat of my car, every last thing in our household needs to be scrubbed and disinfected.  My kids also look completely disheveled.  No matter how many times I wash the Princess's bright pink coat, she emerges from school looking like she's been dragged through a mud puddle.  The fuzzy fleece hats that my kids slip on every morning ensure that their hair is in a state of perpetual disarray.  And their once sparkling white sneakers have been reduced to a dingy grey color that can only be achieved by plunging your feet repeatedly into slush-filled potholes.

While I have been driving myself crazy trying to fight the entropy that comes with winter, the Smokin' Pirate has been growing more comfortable as each day passes.  That child thrives on disorder.  From his perspective, winter means less work.  Really, what is the point of brushing your hair if it is just going to get messed up by your hat?  And why even bother picking up food wrappers from the back seat of the car?  It's not like your mother's going to notice when there is so much other filth in the car.

By the time I had finished clearing the foot high piles of snow at the bottom of the driveway this morning, I was ready to cry "uncle."  But as I emerged into the house in my soaking wet dress coat, I was greeted by the most amazing sight.  Somehow . . . while I was toiling in the driveway, the Princess and the Pirate had actually managed to feed themselves and get dressed.  They were ready to roll out the door on time even though I wasn't there pestering them every step of the way.  Just when I was ready to throw in the towel, the dynamic duo restored my hope and made me realize that we will all (most likely) survive the unbearable month of February.