We woke up this morning to this:
Lovely, no? We only get one or two snows a year, so I was a little excited about the snow.
But I also have a short memory. Because when you share a home with a long-haired dachshund, the snow means this:
I know you can't tell from the picture, but those are balls of snow clinging to his fur. The dog is covered in big balls of snow. Trust me on this. The picture is terrible because the dachshund was not interested in sitting for a picture at that particular moment. He really wanted to spread snow all through the house while simultaneously standing at the back door and whining to be back out with the kids.
So while I'm going to the back door every fifteen seconds to help a child put a mitten or hat back on, or to say please put your hat back on, or stop throwing snowballs at the house, or please don't run into your brother with the sled, or yes, I think that was on purpose, actually, or for goodness sake will you please get off the roof of the shed, the dachshund gets to run all through the house and leave globs of snow lying about.
I know the picture doesn't make it look there's that much snow, but there's a lot. If taking a better picture didn't involve getting up and getting the camera again, I'd take a better picture. And no, that's not dirt on my couch. Those are wet spots from the snow.
To increase the fun, every time a child opens the door and I don't happen to be in the room, the dachshund makes an escape. Which means we get to start the process all over again.
Update: I think it's going to be a long day:
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