Not long before the blizzard hit, my parents decided to go visit friends to the far south. This wasn’t a trip that had been planned for months. They literally decided to do it because snow was coming.

This was a Bad Idea. Their house is one power outage away from being flooded during a major weather event. Normally, they hunker down so they can babysit the sump pumps, but this time, they decided to just... go. It baffled me and Mr. Cunning, but whatever.

While the blizzard was going on, they called us, smugly talking about how warm it was there and about how they had shorts on. “So, you got a bit of snow, huh?” they asked.

“We’re getting twenty inches.”

“...What?”

They thought that we were going to get, like, five inches. No forecaster around her had estimated anything that low. Everyone was basically saying “Big snow event, get prepared!”

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Oh, and? They wanted to come back today. You know, the day when everyone is still under a blanket of snow. When no roads are dug out. The last time this happened, side roads weren’t even TOUCHED until four days in. I told them that they should plan on hunkering down with their friends for another few days and they hemmed and hawed. “Well, we could park on a major road and walk...”

TWENTY FUCKING INCHES, MOTHER. YOU ARE NOT WALKING THROUGH THAT. And where will you park?! On top of a snow bank!?

I didn’t even wait for her to ask me to check on her house. I told her that no one in our house would be leaving until the roads were clear, so that she’d better beg a neighbor to go check on her pumps.

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I swear, the older these two get, the worse they get at planning. My teen planned for this storm better than they did.