Whenever it snows, I’ll excitedly take a picture and text it to my mom. The part of the state where I go to school doesn’t accrue quite as much snow as I’m used to, so whenever we get a dusting of it, I’m disproportionately excited. She knows this.
More often than not, however, in response to the above picture my mom will simply text back, no words necessary:
IT’S NOT A COMPETITION, MOTHER. (Not one that I can win, anyway.) I can’t wait to go home. I’M COMING, SNOW. I have boots that are going to look really good as I trudge through snowy parking lots and spill hot chocolate on things! Don’t melt before I get there!