If you haven't figured it out from the numerous school closings and half an inch of white stuff on the ground, it's winter 'round these here parts. A downright snowpocalypse that has closed the schools for the day (because snow that stopped falling over eight hours ago is a completely insurmountable obstacle when it comes to our children's education - heading out to the drug store to clear its shelves of all forms of bread, milk and toilet paper, however... well those things are important, right?).

What this means for those of you who have sane people in the house, is most folks will look out the window or check the temperature in the morning and then use some judgment to adjust what to clothing they plan to put on for that day. For example:
Hmmm... it's thirty-four degrees, but should get warmer in the afternoon. Perhaps some layers. Or: That's a lot of snow on the ground, I'm thinking boots and heavy socks are the order of the day.

What this means for those of us who share our houses with children, (i.e., The Crazy People) is it is the beginning of a season-long argument about what to wear. Because no matter how cold it is or how many feet of snow on the ground there might be, the Shortlings will look out the window and think to themselves, Hey, it looks really downright freezing outside, WHAT A PERFECT TIME TO WEAR MY BATHING SUIT AND FLIP FLOPS.

And then when you, as a responsible parent, dare to suggest that perhaps they should maybe, consider, thinking about wearing some long pants and a coat, maybe a hat, since they've been coughing for six weeks now, World War III breaks out. Eventually, you just let your kid wear that skirt with naked legs and sandals to preschool, you don't care how many of her teachers will think badly of you, because it's easier than trying to get that kid into weather-appropriate clothing by eight o'clock in the morning, and IT'S JUST NOT WORTH IT. Instead, you run up the heater in the car and leave a pair of pants and socks in her cubby in case they decide to go outside with the distant hope that they have better luck dressing her.

In a related story, The Caterpillar doesn't seem to like to have her hat fastened around her chin and has found the most ingenious way to let us know: