“Who filled out the order form for all this snow?”  I asked.

     “Dave did.”  A little voice told me.

     “Dave?  I’ll kill him.”  I gnashed my teeth and paced the floor.

     “You’ll be lucky if you can punch him in the knee caps.”  The little voice began to giggle.

     I tugged on boots, yanked a snow hat over my hair, and threw on my coat and scarf.  “Shut up!”  I went outside to shovel a path in the yard so the dogs could go.  Grumbling under my breath, “Dave could at least come down here and shovel this mess.”

     This storm made last February’s blizzard look like a flurry.  Isn’t it spring yet?

     Quit laughing Dave…