Hitting the Jackpot on Snow Day

January was one of the coldest, snowiest, wintryest months I can ever remember. I’m sure somebody somewhere can remember it being worse. And some historical archive will probably back them up on it. But it would have been hard to convince me of the reality of global warming the last few weeks. I’ve been dodging ice, eating snow cream, and freezing my buns off ever since 2010 rang itself in on January 1. One reason I think it seems so much colder is because I am so much older. I used to be able to walk outside in a t-shirt and shorts and play in the snow. Nowadays if the temperature is anything less than the highway speed limit, I am bundled up in 10 layers of clothing with insulated socks, reinforced gloves, and seven different kinds of head coverings. Despite this, an accumulation of snow significant enough to prevent the kids from attending school is enjoyable. At least for the first 30 minutes of the first morning they’re stuck at home. By lunchtime I am frantically searching for a phone number to call that will hook me up with the place that accepts volunteer drivers to man those snowplow trucks that clear the roads. To my horror, no such phone numbers exist. On a recent snow day, I decided to give the wife a break and haul my youngest two boys to a local pizza buffet. To honor their wishes, we dined at a joint with an arcade attached. You know the deal. You slap your money into their machines and they spit out little tickets at you. My first indication of trouble occurred as we arrived in the pizza place parking lot and my middle son announced that he hoped no one was there he knew. “Why, you ashamed to be seen with me?” I asked. “Exactly,” he answered. Despite the insult, I proceeded inside and paid for the three of us to eat pizza. Proud of myself that we got out for less than $13 (kid discount and water to drink)- I settled in with my chicken barbeque pizza while the boys quickly ate and headed to the game room. On several occasions I heard shouts of delight from my sons, at one point followed by a scream of “Jackpot!” Before long they ran over to me draped in tickets, closely resembling that animal guru Jack Hanna who enjoys wrapping snakes around his neck. So excited were these juveniles that they hardly touched their dessert pizza. The poor guy at counter patiently waited as they anguished over how to spend their credits. For 661 tickets they got: Silly Goo, a dominos game, two suckers, two water guns, two Tootsie Rolls, and a miniature plastic Slinky. Based on my unscientific calculations, the total value of the above listed items hovers around $2.50 to $3. Because they had brought their own money, I wasn’t too concerned about how much they spent but curiosity led me to ask. “Ten dollars,” one of them answered. “Each,” added the other. Twenty dollars! I wondered out loud if it was worth it. But after arriving home, I decided it probably was. Mom got a break, the kids had a blast, and I got to spend some snow-day time with my boys. Jackpot.