A: Go someplace where's it's warmer! But if Osama’s right about global warming, pretty soon I’ll be able to sunbathe on my porch in Kennebunkport all winter and won’t have to pay $300 just to check my sonic toothbrush on Delta Airlines.
A: I like to have a steaming triple mocha choca coca latte with whipped cream before I go skating on a local pond and drown after not having checked the ice quality warning sign.
A: I save weekends for personal time and like to spend it in overcrowded convention halls having my metatarsals crushed by stroller wheels while attending local arts & crafts festivals featuring garbled loud music by bands with names like Creedence Clearwater Cut it Out Already, and exhibitions selling sad velvet paintings of cultural class struggles.
A: My answer to the seasonal affective disorder: Watching my children enjoy the snow like I might once have done had I been raised to be carefree instead of sheltered and closed off as a result of being raised by the first, no excuse me, second, documented female serial killer. Oh, and I also like to sit on the front porch and watch cars skid into each other on the ice.
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