Updated: Apr 14
On my 1st day of school,
It snowed. 36 inches!
It was beautiful.
I stepped outside, and for the first time ever, saw snowflakes falling from the sky! The ground was dusted in a sheet of sparkling white whipped cream. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
I packed a snowball and threw it at my brother. He pitched one back and it hit me in the ear. I quickly learned that people from California don’t know how to dress for the snow.
When I got dropped off at school, I noticed everyone was wearing snowsuits. “Wtf mom?” I didn't even have a coat. I was wearing tights and a windbreaker.
At lunch, I ate my sandwich as slow as possible watching all the kids put on their swishy snowsuits. I hated the idea of going outside. One by one, everybody left. Soon, I was the last kid in the cafeteria.
The lunch lady came up for a conversation:
Lunch Lady: “Go outside.”
8 Year Old Valerie: “There's no playing in this outfit.”
Lunch Lady: “Your mother should have dressed you better.”
8 Year Old Valerie: "My mother doesn’t know how to dress for this. She works inside... Can I play inside?"
Ruth was her name, and she acted like a Ruth. “No,” she said.
8 Year Old Valerie: Ruth, I come from a place if it so much as rains, we play inside. I can just go to my classroom and pretend this conversation never happened.”
Lunch Lady: There’s no one to watch you…Unless you want Norm to watch you.
She motioned to a man in the hall. He was wearing a janitor outfit and skipping a mom of dirty bleach water on the tan linoleum. Norm was the creepy janitor. He had dark circles under his eyes and skin so white it tinged green.
I hopped up, without a word, and went outside.
I stood by the door freezing, watching my peers play in the snow. One was rolling a snowball. Another was licking an icicle. The sight of it all made me shiver.
Out of left field, a little girl came swishing my way. Her little snowsuit: Swish, swishing every step. “YAY! A friend.” I thought. She walked up to me and asked: “Are you Mormon?” I wanted to lie, but “No.” I replied.
“You’re going to hell.” She said.
"That's fine. At least hell is warmer than Utah."