My parents were from Lowell, Massachusetts, and while my
father quickly adopted a Southern drawl and took to sipping iced tea while
taking us from one Civil War battlefield to the next, my mother would pass the
time by not being able to wrap her head around schools
closing just because of a measly eight inches of snow on the
ground. My brother and I would explain
to her that most kids came from back roads and farms miles out of town that
snowplows couldn’t even get close to, an explanation she would wave off as
“absolutely ridiculous” which of course is the exact right response from
someone who grew up in a large city where every kid lived within two blocks of
their school, albeit an inane one from someone who currently was living fifteen
miles out of town on one of those very back roads.
No comments:
Post a Comment