It’s bad enough I hate snow, but not having WIFI made things considerably worse
I hate snow. I have always hated snow, apart from a brief time when I was ten. We got the day off school and I slid down Hilly Holly on a biscuit tin lid for the afternoon. That was fun. Until I had to go home with a wet arse and frozen fingers and toes.
I don't see the appeal of skiing holidays at all. People always tell me I'd love the apres ski but why pay good money to freeze your ass off to drink aperol spritzers when you can do it at home without expending any energy?
So whilst everybody else marvelled at the powdery blanket that covered the country last week, I just wanted to stay in bed and not get up till it had well and truly melted. Himself however wasn't having any of that. He was like a toddler after eating too many blue smarties - running in and out to give five minute updates, charging into the garden to make snow angels on his own, spending two hours making a snowman whom he christened Dave.
'Why won't you come out in it? It's brilliant' he enthused all red and shiny faced. 'Because I'll melt,' I replied. 'I hate snow. I hate being cold. I hate being wet and did I mention I hate snow?' Off he went again delighted with himself, making snowballs to fire at the neighbours.
To make matters worse we had no wifi. I cannot overestimate how upsetting this was. Firstly it meant I couldn't do any on-line shopping which is the obvious choice of activity when you're snowed in with nothing to do. Secondly I had no social media which meant I couldn't bitch about the weather with other like minded individuals. Thirdly I couldn't download any Netflix so had nothing to watch on tv and fourthly and most scarily - this meant The Youngest had nothing to do and World War 3 would commence.
It wasn't long before a blood curdling scream could be heard from the playroom. 'THERE'S NO WIFI!' she wailed almost hyperventilating. I explained there was a fault on the line, whatever that meant, but it could take a couple of days for a technician to fix it.
Another blood curdling wail. 'BUT I'VE GOT NOTHING TO DO!!' several suggestions were discarded amidst more whinging before we finally settled on a game of cards. Two hours later we were still playing Switch, there was no bread left and someone who refused to admit culpability, had eaten the last bag of Tayto. Tempers were frayed!
'What will we do next?' The Youngest asked, having finally grown fed up of cards. 'Let's have a gin and tonic?' I suggested hopefully. 'Am I not too young to drink alcohol?' The Youngest inquired.
Desperate times call for desperate measures!!
New Ross Standard