My friends' aunt wrote this letter to the editor this month due to all of the "snow" days we've had here in Tennessee. Tee-hee!
To the Editor,
When Carol Birdsong sings, people listen. It's a crazy thing, but when the phone rings and the caller ID shows Williamson County Schools, the reaction in my house is as follows: The children squeal with joy; the parents cry with sorrow. Why, oh why, Carol, have you been calling me so much? So what that there's a little snow on the ground. So what that there's three plows for all of Williamson County. So what that the 4 inches of snow is covered by 2 inches of ice. Carol, can't you remember what it was like when we were kids? You know, walking three miles to school, in 6 inches of snow, barefoot, uphill, both ways. Didn't that build character? Aren't we better adults for having suffered through the storms as kids?
Carol, listen to me. We're going to have to have a new game plan if we're both going to survive the rest of the school year. Of course, we know that on day one of the storm, school's going to be closed. I've lived in Middle Tennessee long enough to know that it's a given. But here's the twist: On day two, I want you to call and leave the following message: "This is Carol Birdsong of Williamson County Schools calling to let you know that if you don't get out there and start shoveling your own road, school ain't happening tomorrow and your kids are staying home again!" Carol, I predict the roads will be snow-free faster than you can say, "Mommy, can you make pancakes again?"
And while you're at it, please suggest that it's OK for folks to go out on the main streets and start sprinkling salt from the shaker. Hey, the entire container of Morton's costs about 58 cents, and it will be the best 58 cents they could spend if it allows the buses to keep rolling!
Seriously, Carol, the Chuck E Cheese's parking lot is clear, why not the schools'? How come we can go to the Y, the library, the mall and everywhere else except school?
So here's the deal, you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours. You make the revised phone call, and I'll get out every shovel, broom and pooper-scooper I can find to clear the roads. We can do this together, Carol, barefoot, uphill, both ways.
