No School Tomorrow

She dances around her room wildly singing, "No school tomorrow. No school tomorrow." Hair streams around her head like a golden halo as she spins around in circles. She wiggles and bends, to pulls wool socks out of the bottom drawer of her dresser. She hops around the room on one foot, tugging a sock onto the other. Her arms fling out. The sock flies across the room into the closet. She comes perilously close to landing on her bottom. She twirls and pirouettes over to retrieve the gymnastic sock. Her foot begins to lift, but with a thoughtful look, she quickly sits on the floor. Her shoulders go up and down. Her head rolls. Her feet and arms jump and wiggle. She can barely put on her socks. She leans way over for tall, brown, fur lined boots. "No school tomorrow. No school tomorrow."

A horrific grimace mars her face at the sight of the thick, bright pink parka she finds buried at the very back of her closet. As she zips up the offensive pink coat, she adds words to her song, "I hate pink. I hate pink. I hate pink, but no school tomorrow. I hate pink!" Down the stairs she goes, still dancing, still singing. "Where are my gloves? Where are my gloves? No school tomorrow. Where are my gloves?" She dances all over the house searching, and singing,"No school tomorrow. Where are my gloves? I need gloves. Where are my gloves?" Upstairs, downstairs, she dances, looking high and low. There! The bookshelf by the front door, where she searched a million times before, "Gloves, gloves, gloves! No school tomorrow. I found my gloves!" As she tugs them on, she yells out, "Hurry up, Mom. I'm ready to play in the snow!"