Snow Day!

Or two, actually. We had an ice storm on Sunday (which sadly did not look like Ang Lee shot it) which closed school for the kids on Monday. The ice was followed by a snow storm. Which lead to another snow day for the kids. Groovy.

However, Sunday night was excruciating for Matilda who was anxiously watching the news hoping to see her school had closed. If they closed it before bed, she could sleep knowing that she didn’t have to get up early. Which, of course, makes us all feel better.

But she learned a valuable lesson. He school starts with “P” and we live in a largely Catholic town. In order to get the information we wanted, we had to wait through the “Our Ladies”.

Oh yes. The school of the Our Lady was a thorn in my side as a child too, as I went to a public “P” school as well. In all my life, I have never met anyone who actually attended any of the Our Lady schools, but I know for a fact that there are three hundred of them.

So Matilda and I settled in. We were getting excited. Mascoutah R-32 had closed. Either that or a Republican from Mascoutah had voted for something. We couldn’t tell. The important thing was that the alphabet was slowly advancing toward “P”. Yes, Nerinx! We’re nearly through the “N”s.

“We’re almost there,” yelled Matilda. “Soon I will know my fate!”

I had forgotten about the Our Ladies. I hadn’t told her. And it was almost too late, as I found out that Nyman High School was on a snow schedule. She was vibrating from the expectations.

“Matilda, there’s something you need to know,” I said.

“Shhhhh.”

“Mat—“

“HUSH!”

So she was ushered in on her own.

The “O”s started out innocently enough, as there are plenty of innocent and completely innocuous words that can be filed between Oa and Ou. So Oakville was closed. Groovy.

And then it hit.

Our Lady, Queen of Peace
Our Lady of the Sacred Heart
Our Lady of Lourdes
Our Lady of the Lake
Our Lady When You’re With Me I’m Smiling
Our Lady of the Holy Blood
Our Lady of the Bloody Mary
Our Lady of Perpetual Motion
Our Lady of Expectant Waiting
Our Lady of Cosmic Vibrations
Our Lady of Virtual Chagrins
Our Lady of Spain
Our Lady of the Night (GED Center)
Our Lady of the Yellowed Bruise

It was endless. Horribly endless. The Our Ladies kept coming and coming. Our eyes began to glaze over and we began to drool. We were mesmerized. Completely taken in by the beauty of the scrolling names. We began to chant, “Ourladyourladyourlady.”

Suddenly, before we knew it . . .

“We missed it,” screamed Matilda.

“What? How? What?”

“We weren’t paying attention, they’re on the Qs!”

“Okay, it’s okay! We’ll just wait for the next round.”

So we watched. And this being a Catholic town . . .

Christ, Prince of Peace
Christ, Our Savior School
Christ Our Savior School and Nacho Stand

“Crap,” yelled Matilda

“Honey, don’t talk like that,” I said.

“Sorry Dad,” she said. “I’m just anxious.”

“You’re right,” I said. “Let’s just go check the district’s website.”

“Good idea,” she said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Why? What are you doing?”

“I just want to see what else Christ is the Savior or Prince of . . .”

And so, there in the bluish glow of our Sony, My daughter and I shared a moment. True, it was also a minor defeat, but together we discovered that Parochial schools have very strange names. And we decided that, no matter how strong our faith was, I would never send her to a school named “Blood of the Lamb” because she really doesn’t want to cheer for the Fighting Holy Platelets.


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