I’ll be honest with you, I don’t really love snow. I like it when it’s really deep so I don’t have to go to school, but when it’s enough to be super cold and slippy and I still have to trek into the unheated hell-hole that is my form room it is beyond irritating and either disappears after an hour or goes icky and grey by the afternoon. Of course, we spend the entire winter with young people on the bus saying ‘oh, there’ll be snow tomorrow, there will be, we’ll have the WHOLE WEEK off school!!!’ which gets extremely irritating after a while. Just kidding it’s irritating from when they start. These statements tend to make the rest of the people on the bus get very excited and start discussing the many weather websites they had looked on to get the idea that there would be snow soon, while I sit and exchange glances with my friend.
May I also explain the logic behind English views on snow. For the majority of the time there won’t be any snow whatsoever and we will all be watching weather reports clutching cups of tea and high-fiving whenever snow is actually predicted. When a single snowflake finally does fall to the ground, we will shout at it to settle, despite the fact that it most probably will not. And if it does settle, then we will attempt to get to work and school, arrive, and then start moaning about how we are actually in school and how cold our feet are and how we actually only like snow when we are allowed out into it and not kept in our classrooms even when you are totally and utterly desperate for the toilet, so much so that you are hopping, and you maths teacher says it is school policy to not let you out of the room, even when you explain that there will be a puddle. But that’s another story. And there wasn’t a puddle, although I must say it was a close run thing.
Anyway, that’s my views on snow. It’s pretty sometimes and useful at other times but mainly just there to make you slip onto your bum while people at the bus stop start laughing. I’m sure at least one of you will think so too.
Oh, and I almost forgot, my headteacher bought a snow plough. A snow plough. In England. WHERE IT NEVER EVEN SNOWS EVER. I’m sorry but I think you might be beginning to understand why he isn’t the most loved of people. Maybe. Just about.