If you ask me, the Olympics should recognize moisturizer application as a winter sport and allow women to compete internationally. I just can’t decide whether the competition should be based on speed or results. Should the gold go to the woman who can apply the most lotion in the least amount of time, or the woman who goes home baby-bottom-soft after beginning the week most resembling a Gila monster?
Other cold weather sports? Scraping ice off a frozen windshield is always a riveting event. So is hunting for missing mittens.
Then there’s the popular sport of keeping the house warm, which requires good manual dexterity as well as a high tolerance for emotional pain. This is because it usually involves writing checks to utility companies for obscene sums of money.
And don’t forget snowflake watching. I hadn’t looked at a snowflake—I mean really looked at a snowflake—in years. But when I did, and I studied the intricate design, it was exquisite even as it melted into my glove. I was filled with awe. My daughter took the opportunity of my reflective pause to plant a fistful of wet snow in my face.
Not that I mind a little snow in the face. In fact, harsh elements don’t worry me a bit. I am, after all, a serious athlete, well practiced in my chosen sport.
Just give me a bottle of Jergens, and I’ll bring home the gold every time.