Weather wise, things are looking pretty white for Boston. Bleh. At this point, I’m growing an immunity and am unfazed by 6-12 inches. It’s more like a light dusting.
Snow goes hand in hand with something I like to call the pre-apocalyptic bread and milk run. This phenomenon is when Americans run (literally) to supermarkets to hoard all of the bread and milk they can. If you’re a member of my household, you can also tack on 30 rolls of toilet paper to the list of snow day necessities. In my family, getting all three of these items in one trip is attaining the house arrest trifecta.
I’m an artist, I know.
In my opinion, this is one of those inherited traditions passed down from generation to generation to generation. Now, at 26 years old, I stand before you to ask the question, WHY?! What is it about snow that makes people run to the store for these particular items? Honestly, what are you making with this stuff?! French toast and bread pudding to last us a whole week? I don’t get it.
Because it is well past midnight and I’m not about to call my mom or grandma, I will go to my back up — GOOGLE! I did a search on ‘milk bread snow’. What I found was shocking. First of all, I am not alone in this mystery. There is a whole puzzled population out there questioning the people around us and sometimes even ourselves. Why are we brainwashed drones all buying the same emergency kit?
Some very wise person from the UK responded, “These are the things that are not stored in wharehouses and are delivered daily, the weather prevented deliverys as the major roads were closed, and many delivery trucks were snowed in. Also the people working in the factories that produced these items could not get in to work(slowing production). So because there were no deliveries, the stck quickly ran out.” Ok, I rescind my “wise” comment. I judge people based on grammar and spelling. He makes a valid point, but I cannot take him seriously. Sadly, this was one of the more well rounded answers out there. Many people ask the question, few people dare to answer.
This will forever be an unsolved mystery to me and I’m sure the bread and milk run will perpetuate itself until the end of time. My response? Screw the makings of French toast. I’ll buy everything I need to make a mean guacamole. If I’m going to be under house arrest, I’m eating what I like.
P.S. I am my father’s daughter — the extra rolls of toilet paper still stand.