Bitching and moaning about the weather, just to get it out of my system

On March 10th Northeast, Ohio enjoyed a sunshine and lollipop day with 50 degree temperatures. Native Northeast Ohioans know it's a cruel trick from Mother Nature. But we never learn and our biggest mistake is enjoying the warm weather in March too much. In the back of our brains where we store the weather memories there is a tiny voice telling us,
"Winter isn't over, pace yourself and Jesus, Mary and Joseph, don't do anything stupid."
I have compiled a list of the stupid:
1. Do not look for a pair of shorts and your flip flops.
2. Do not put any sweaters away, even the big bulky wool one that itches if you wear in a temperature above 7 degrees.
3. Look at the picture of my front steps. See the snow shovel propped up against the steps? That will be there until June 1st. Never put your snow shovels away in March, ever."
4. Snow blowers (see stupid #3) Cousin Mike, I hope you are reading this. You put your snow blower away, admitted it and now see what you've done. Part of this is your fault and I told you so. Pretty sure I swore at you too.
5. It's too early to play corn hole.
6. The rock salt that you have near the front door to keep from cracking your head open by slipping on the icy steps, leave it there all year. Just put an umbrella in front of it, people will understand.
7. When we are driving stay out of our way because we have only scraped enough ice off our windshield to see straight ahead until the defroster melts the rest. Seriously, we can't see when we are driving in March snow.
8. Rodents with cutesy names don't know there ass from a hole in the ground. Expecting them to predict the weather.....stupid.
9. If you have just moved to our lovely part of the fruited plain we expect a mistake or two the first couple years. But if you keep it up we will be at your doorstep with pitch forks and torches.
10. Don't enjoy yourself too much, this bares repeating.
There you have it, my expert non-jinxing weather advice.

Just one more thing. I had an essay published in the online parent magazine The Imperfect Parent. Go to this link and click on the thumbs up 'like' button: Let's pretend you didn't break your arm and go on vacation

Then maybe I'll look popular and they will give me more assignments. This will be the last time I bug you for this, probably.

Bears don't fit under cars

The past summer our area news stations were reporting bear sightings. I've lived here my whole life and have never, ever seen a bear except at the zoo. I was slightly concerned over this news. I didn't want to be on the television show 'When Animals Attack' and I plan to keep all of my limbs as long as possible. That being said when I heard a growl last night.........it freaked me out man. 
I'm lucky if I get to bed by midnight and one of the last things I do before climbing in bed is let the dog out. I am careful to check for other dogs being walked down the street, the deer and any other wildlife before I attach her to her lead and open the front door.
Here is where 'it isn't my fault' comes into play.
The husband complains that I don't leave her out long enough and when I go to bed and he stays up the dog bothers him to go back out. So last night, against my better judgement, I put her out and went to wash my face. Men, where do I start? Once they are in their recliners with the remote in their hand and their feet propped up they have a very limited reaction time. A dog barking past midnight doesn't phase them. So when the dog started barking I came down the hallway drying my face with a towel, headed for the front door and on my way said,
"See."
"Huh?"
"The dog is going to wake the neighbors."
Fifty percent of the time she goes out she gets herself wrapped around the light post or stuck on the corners of the front steps. I have to take my slippers off and put on boots to get her loose. Then she runs in and hides one of my slippers. But last night mayhem ensued.
I got to the door. Painting you a picture here. One of our cars is usually parked next to the front steps. The dog is stuck on the steps but has enough slack to get her head halfway under the car. She's barking and the hairs on her back are sticking straight up. I hissed her name to get her to shut up and she did. But then I heard a growl coming from under the car. I whimpered. The corner she was stuck on was closest to the car. Jesus, Mary and Joseph I'm going to die or at least loose a hand and get rabies. I'm holding the dog by the collar and trying to maneuver the lead off the corner that was right by the beast under the car while mumbling incoherently to the husband. Something came out like,
"There's a... it's... something is under the car... it's growling... the dog... something is growling... help... the dog is stuck... help... it's growling... under the car... help."
I was 100% sure it wasn't a bear but it was pissed. The husband and I freed the dog and brought her in, she was hopped up on the scent of the beast and ran from the front window to the front door, over and over again. She was protecting her turf. While she continued, the husband laughed at me for being such a girl. I blamed him for the dog being out that late unsupervised and for my wet slippers. I didn't have time to change into boots when I saw her head under the car.
This morning he was still making fun of me and I'm sure Brent already knows about this story but I wanted him to hear my side. And to the rest of my readers my side is enough as I am sure you all agree it's the husbands fault.