Since I’ve already been degrading myself with stories of absentmindedness and embarrassment, I might as well keep going. 

So. Several weeks ago, on a Tuesday night, we were coming home from Bible study at church. The forecast had predicted snow that afternoon, but lo and behold, no snow.

But it had snowed in Burwell, Nebraska (which, for all of you non-Nebraska people, is a town that’s about two hours away from us), and that is what the conversation was about as we drove home that night. 

I was in the back seat staring out the window as I listened halfheartedly. 

“So-and-so said that Burwell actually got snow…and the snowflakes were this big…!”

“Hmm…I wish we would have gotten snow.”

“Not me…brrrrrrrrr!”

“We never get any snow, and everyone else always does.”


By the time we had made it two blocks away from the church, my mind had already wandered far away.

“So how much snow do you think Burwell got?” Dad asked Brittany.

I sat up quickly and yelled the closest thing to my mind. “Sidewalk! Er…wait a minute, what was the question again?”