At the chance of snow
So to school tomorrow
We won't have to go.
There's supposed to be five inches,
with a ninety per cant chance;
And already many people
Have performed the snow dance.
It is to happen overnight,
So I go to bed,
With visions of snow and school closings
Dancing in my head.
I happen to wake up at four,
But I use this opporotunity
To go to the window and see.
Initially, me heart is glad,
For lots of snow I view.
But the mind is easily decieved
By wishful thinking's skew.
There is no snow, the grass is green,
So I return to sleep,
Wishing that the snow would fall
And cover me knee-deep.
I wake again at 6:22--
Oh no, my alarm didn't ring!
It's supposed to wake me up at six,
The wretched, cursed thing!
To make things worse, I'm the first to wake up,
And now I really am irate.
People in the next room rely on my clock,
But now we'll all be late!
Frantically, I get out of bed,
And go to take a shower.
I have to get everything ready for school
In less than an hour.
I finish the shower and decide
That I should go and wake everyone,
Only to see Mom, already up,
And with the news channel on.
"Any news?", I ask her.
"School's open, is it not?"
She looks to me and then she says
"Things didn't turn out as you thought."
"I know that no snow is on the ground,
But the school closed just based on prediction.
Since you're up and have showered already,
I know that was in contradiction."
I gasp in surprise. School really is closed?
Even though snow hasn't fallen?
But it's too late to go back to sleep!
Should I be glad or crestfallen?
I shrug at the irony of it all.
I can always take a nap later.
School is closed, and I'm satisfied.
I won't be a This-Day-Hater.