“Well, I see you survived the great blizzard of 2015, Wolf.”

“Yeah, it was tough, but I did it.”

“How in the world did you get to work the day after the storm?”

“I braved the elements, Minnie, bit the bullet and drove through the mountains of snow, fearless and determined, not to let Mother Nature rain on my parade.”

“Just how much snow did we get, anyway?”

“Nevermind, Minnie.  It was forecasted:  1 to 16 inches. And we fell in that range.”

“Did we hit the upper range?”

“Not exactly.  We were slightly under 16 inches.”

“A foot?”

“No, not quite a foot.”

“6?”

“Does that really matter, Minnie?  If you recall, I sacrificed my Sunday, loading up with bread and milk at the grocery store.  It was brutal, fighting for that last loaf.  Thankfully, the liquor store was open on Sunday, so I stocked up on essentials.  I packed my pjs and toothbrush and booked a room at the local hotel, just in case I could not make it home.  I was the ultimate junior blue bird, always prepared.”

“Hmm.  Come on, Wolf.  Just how much snow did we get?”

“It snowed all day, Minnie.  You know if it snows all day, it adds up.”

“To what?”

“To a miserable day, anticipating the super storm.  But, all that hype gave our economy a boost, while exacerbating our ulcers and scaring the living daylight out of most of us.  But as they say, most of us worry about stuff that never happens.”

“How much snow, Wolf?”

“Slightly over the lower end of the forecast.  Maybe an inch and a half?”

“Oh for crazy!  And you call that a super storm?”

“No.  I call it the best damn storm I have ever experienced.”

 

Wolf

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