As a born and bred, true Canadian hoser, I am accustomed to whatever winter madness Mother Nature throws my way. However, that doesn’t mean I have to like it. No matter how cute I look stuffed into a parka and toque.

So when the temperatures plummeted 20 degrees in two hours and the weather channel called for blizzard like conditions, I was unfazed. Annoyed, but unfazed. I just hunkered down around the fire; cuddled with some blankets and whined over who would have to stand outside with my pansy ass dog to ensure he piddled outside and not on my laundry basket like he did the night before.

(Gosh I love my dog.)

Eventually the wind quit howling and the snow stopped falling and Nature quit being a bitch. Or so I thought. Until I took the damn dog out to do his business. (That will be the last time I draw straws. Next time I’ll just arbitrarily assign a potty minder for the pooch.)

It was a balmy -47 degrees. That is -53 degrees for you Yankee folks. In other words, it was facking cold and poor Nixon couldn’t pee fast enough to prevent little icesicles forming around his willy.

Its times like this I really miss prancing around topless on a Mexican beach, let me tell ya.

Neither the dog nor I could get into the house fast enough. Neither of us felt like communing with the great outdoors as we breathed in air so cold it felt like our lungs were on fire. As I was brushing the snow off the dog and my boots, the phone rang.

Shit. It’s the school board. That is not good news, I thought to myself, as I answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, may we speak to the breeder of Fric and Frac, please?”

“This is her,” I responded while fervently hoping they were calling to tell me my children had won scholarships based on sarcasm skills and not actual academic merit.

“This is the ruler of the educational system out here in ButtFark Alberta. Please be advised that weather conditions have prompted the cancellation of the school busses tomorrow morning and seeing as your husband nominated you behind your back to be the moron who has to call all the parents on the bus route, now would be a good time to dig out that emergency phone list you buried in your junk drawer and proceed to inform all other parents.”

“Do I have to?” I argued.

“Yes.” Shit. Think fast Tanis, there is still a chance to turn this ship around, I thought to myself.

“But you don’t understand. I just spent two whole days with my children. I took them ice-skating yesterday and sledding. All in one day. I had a Wii tournament for them and their friends. I had 13 children packed into my house for eight straight hours today and all I want is some peace and quiet. They NEED to go to school tomorrow. Can’t you send a team of dog sleds or something?” I whined. Because everyone knows, WHINING works.

“We’re sorry. But we are unable to comply with your request as all tax dollars ear marked for education are being used to buy the good coffee beans from Starbucks and pretty glitter pens.”

“Dammit.” Visions of spending the day relaxing in front of my computer vanished like a plate of cookies in front of Santa.

As the responsible adult I am, I made peace with the situation and dug out phone list. And a bottle of wine. I needed fortification as I started making calls to parents to break their hearts and share my pain.

There is nothing worse than being the messenger. Everyone wants a piece of your ass to chew on. Over and over I explained that I did my best to change the school board’s mind, but apparently icy, snow covered roads and dangerously low temperatures trump the parents need for peace and quiet.

Unfeeling school board bastards. How dare they put the safety of our children first.

“But I just spent the day shuffling my kids to FIVE hockey games this weekend,” one woman whined. “I need a break.”

I feel for you sista.

“But I’ve got to get to work and I don’t have a sitter for the kids. Can you do it?” one man asked.

Not on your freaking life. I’ve already got to find a way to hide from two munchkins. I don’t need to add more to the mix.

After robbing all those families of their joy, I vowed to find some new sucker to take over the responsibility of being the emergency caller on snow days. Life is too short to grow this many gray hairs at once.

It’s not worth being ostracized at school events by a mob of angry parents who haven’t forgotten YOU were the jerk who, by bearing bad news, ruined their lives on a snowy cold Monday.

I’m trying to find the silver lining in the snow day this morning as my children prance around with joy and generally step on my last remaining nerve.

The good news is, I don’t have to take Nixon out to pee. It’s still -47 out there with wind-chill.

The bad news is, my children may turn into ice pops if I force them outside to shovel the deck play so I can blog in peace.

Ah screw it. They’re young. They’ll thaw fast.

Maybe snow days aren’t so bad after all.