On Friday, when the snow first started falling in earnest, the Boy, Bear, Husband, Beast and I all bundled up and set out to make snowmen, throw snowballs and lay in the snow flapping our arms and legs around like disgruntled fish. Beast had a slight problem with this, but compensated by burying his head in the snow and running like a polar bear, but faster than a polar bear and with a much longer tail (Which incidentally stuck up like a snow buoy). Snow day was fun, my bum went numb (quite literally) and the Bear tolerated the experience with a grumpy, bemused face. After 42 seconds of snow time he decided it was most certainly not for him and would prefer to sit in his pram, under a blanket. Now. Please.

We are now on day 3 of snow. It is no longer fun, it is cold and slippy and I would like it to go away. No matter how much the Boy begs and pleads to go play (Please Mummy, I love snow!) we will not. I am now a snow grinch and simply cannot smile until it leaves. Shoo snow, my footwear and you simply don't agree, and that's not to mention my now nearly-healed-but-still-a-bit-gimpy knee. All in all, you are bad for my health, clothing options and brain.

Snow, take the hint, you are not wanted. Especially when you go all slushy and grey.