Snow days and scrambled eggs

Snowy days always seem to make me crave scrambled eggs.

As kids, we LIVED for snow days. And it seemed like we had a lot more of them then we do now.

I can well remember lying in bed, all cozy and warm, waiting for those magic words to come from either my Mom or the clock radio: Lower Dauphin School District is CLOSED.

The sheer magic of the snow day!

Immediately we would all bound out of bed -- and insist that we wanted to go out and play in the snow. We had these great old-fashioned sleds - and loved using them.

It would take us 30 minutes to get properly dressed -- snow pants, hats, mittens, long underwear -- we were wrapped up so tight we could barely lower our arms. Do kids even have snow pants anymore?

And inevitably, after 15 minutes outside, we'd had enough -- "we're cold!" and into the house we'd go.

And Mom would make us scrambled eggs -- even if it was 2 o'clock in the afternoon.

I don't know when the scrambled egg tradition began -- but it was critical to the joy of a snow day.

To this day, I can't look at a plate of scrambled eggs, without thinking "Snow Day!" in my mind -- sometimes it even leaks out, to the amusement of my fellow diners.

Nowadays "snow day" means that my husband gets to sleep in while I have to get up and get to the office.

Somehow the magic of a snow day is lost when hubby just rolls over and grunts something about "driving carefully" while pulling the warm covers up around his shoulders...pup at his side.

Maybe next time I'll make myself some scrambled eggs...while he sleeps...