Whenever we get snow here in Binghamton and the schools start closing, I think back to when I was a kid and what snow days meant to me. Every time I heard it was going to snow, I would not do my homework the day before, stay up late to watch the weather on the 11 o’clock news, because that was the only way to get the forecast, and then go to bed and pray the meteorologist was right. I would wake up the next morning, look out the window to see if it had snowed and then put the radio on and listen for those magical words, “Your School Is Closed Today”. Sometimes the gamble of not doing my homework or studying for that days test would pay off. Other times it would come back to bite me. If we had school, I would complain and try and cram in studying while eating my Lucky Charms or I would be trying to get my homework done before I ran out the door.

If school was closed. We would put on our snowsuits, grab the sleds and head to my neighbor’s yard where all the kids from the neighborhood would gather to sled down the big hill all day long. The only time we went inside was to use the bathroom or eat lunch, and then we were right back outside again. We wouldn’t be able to feel our feet or our faces, but we didn’t care we were having fun. Anytime I see kids sleigh riding or I announce school closings, I have those flashbacks and wish I could go back in time for one day to do it all over again.