February 3, 2014

Blame the Groundhog

I was already over winter way back in November, before Mother Nature went all "Day After Tomorrow" on us...now, I have a snow drift that looks like the Swiss Alps in my backyard and my kids have used up all of their days off school on account of it being -245 degrees outside.  And we aren't even halfway through yet...  Sometimes, when I hear the weather forecast, I feel like I'm Bill Murray and I keep waking up to the same thing over and over and over again.  "Okay, campers, rise and shine, and don't forget your booties because it's COOOLD out there..."

Ahh, but today IS Groundhog Day!  Maybe that squirrel-looking pillow pet will bring us some relief, right?
Sigh.  Groundhog Day.  Of all of the holidays - and I'm using the term "holiday" VERY loosely here - Groundhog Day has to be one of the most pointless.  International Waffle Day?  That just makes sense.  But I don't generally rely on rodents to predict anything except the likelyhood that the crackers in my pantry have been eaten.  Come on, the thing is scared of it's own shadow, how smart can he possibly be?  But regardless, today, in front of a crowd of around 20,000 people who have absolutely nothing else going on in their lives, "Punxsutawney Phil, the most famous (and, I would argue, the only...) groundhog in history, emerged from his burrow early Sunday morning and with the help of his handlers declared that he saw his shadow."  Yes, you read that right - he declared he saw his shadow.  If you imagined that declaration being spoken in a chipmunk voice, you aren't alone.  But how, exactly, do we know if he saw it?  Did they teach him a secret squeal or growl or whatever the heck noise groundhogs make?  Does he push a "YES" or "NO" button?  He probably just came out, saw the giant piles of snow and the swirling polar vortex of coldness and said "To hell with this, I'm going back to bed!"  That's exactly what I did this morning, except my audience consisted of a 4 year old who had his pants on backwards.  And unlike P Phil, I have to work more than one day per year so I had to get up regardless of the winter-that-never-ends.  I read somewhere that in the 128 years that they have been holding this groundhog ceremony, only 17 times has the critter ever not seen his shadow.  That's like...some really small percentage, which only proves that the groundhog doesn't really know the secret squeal after all and just wants to be left alone for another 364 days.  Obviously, the fame has gone to his head.

So, six more weeks it is.  We will continue driving our cars on an ice skating rink and trying to find our mailboxes while Phil sits in his nice warm luxury burrow with toasted chestnuts and lettuce.  Yes, such a great holiday indeed... 

1 comment:

  1. Jeez you are funny. I laughed all the way through that post. Your writing skills are amazing.


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