It’s getting deep

Whether snow is good or bad depends on … no, it’s bad

In most relationships, even the longest-lasting ones, there come occasions when you realize there are fundamental differences that may never be resolved, issues that have to be worked through and circumstances that, if they can’t be changed, have to be endured.

These can be big deals, like religion, class, upbringing, expectations and family. I speak from experience here because the Lovely Mrs. Smith and I have a big issue we have had to deal with, one that continues to haunt our marriage.

It seems my lovely bride of many years is … a snow person. And I am very much not.

OK, this might not seem like the biggest of issues to most of you. But people like me, married to Snow People, well, you know.

A definition of terms might be helpful here. Snow People are not characters out of science fiction or Disney animation. They are just people who, for reasons understood only by them, like snow. They don’t just abide it. They actually, actively like it.

And no, we’re not talking about people who live up North or engage in strange activities like skiing or ice skating or hockey or professional snowman building (I don’t know: might be a thing. When you don’t care for snow, there’s really nothing people can do with it that seems too strange).

For people who don’t like it, snow is just an avenue, a pathway to what they really, really want. Which is sitting in the Lodge with something that may or may not be a Scotch. OK, maybe that’s just me. But I don’t really think so.

In fact, in my experience some of the folks who least enjoy snow actually live right in the heart of it and for reasons known only to them have resigned themselves to being miserable for multiple months of the year. Having lived in a place like that for many years when I was younger, I felt their pain. Or at least I did until the frostbite set in.

And then there are people like my lovely wife, who have lived their entire lives in places where snow isn’t necessarily a guarantee every winter. For those people, snow is a treat, an occasion for celebration. It’s staying home from school, and hot chocolate and sledding.

And it typically doesn’t last long enough that you even have to shovel your driveway, much less put snow chains on.

For Snow People, a winter storm is all sunshine and snowmen, instead of the long, dark, soul-crushing experience real-life winter can be.

So when the TV weather people tell us, repeatedly and unendingly, that there is a chance for snow, the Lovely Mrs. Smith will typically turn to me and say something along the lines of “I hope it snows buckets.” And I will look at her and smile, while inside I’m screaming.

Because that’s what a good marriage is all about. Screaming, but silently.

Does that reek of dishonesty and insincerity? Well, that’s one way to look at it. Another is, well, why spoil someone else’s fun? Let them dream, even if it’s your nightmare. Oh, and be sure and go to the store and buy up all the milk and bread. Because, apparently, that’s all you need to get through a snowstorm.

See, the thing is, if it’s going to snow, it’s going to snow. Altering that is well above my pay grade, lighting candles and wishing on a star aside. And pointing out the obvious fact that snow is a meteorological disaster that turns even the simplest task into a labor-intensive, bone-chilling nightmare is like telling someone they shouldn’t like ice cream.

Just keep smiling. And rest assured that if they don’t know, well, they will.

And, again, this isn’t the worst possible situation. I mean, yes, periodically and for no good reason, it snows around here. Yes, a very challenging situation far more unpleasant and inconveniencing than many would like to admit. But in a few days, a week tops, it’ll be gone. As the “Welcome to Rhode Island” signs allegedly say, keep your smart remarks to yourself.

OK, I don’t think they have a sign like that, but maybe they should.

Besides, learning to smile as sweetly as you can without looking like you’re suddenly experiencing intense internal pain is a gift and a critical skill that will come in handy many times during a marriage.

Like when your wife turns to you and says “We really ought to take everyone canoeing.”

Just smile. While you’re screaming on the inside.