Growing up in the Texas Panhandle means I’m no stranger to the snow, but it doesn’t mean I like it.

Those pesky flakes of solidified rainwater turn roads and sidewalks into icy death traps canceling school and trapping people indoors.

Almost everything about the snow drives me crazy. Shoveling driveways, scraping ice off my windshield, wearing at least six layers of clothes and slipping in front of Mabee Hall on the way to work.

And when heavy winds are thrown into the snowy mix, it feels like my face is being pelted with large icicles – an experience I don’t enjoy.

Snowball fights are wet and dangerous when college guys try to see just how fast and hard they can throw the tightly packed sphere of snow. Snowmen are kind of creepy with their beady coal eyes, long carrot noses and crooked, stick arms. Snow angels are really just a waste of dry clothes. And why make a snow fort in the bitter cold outside when you can make a blanket fort in a dry, warm living room?

Melting snow is even worse. Water drips from rooftops into yards creating muddy, wet puddles of ice and snow. Snowmen become even creepier when their eyes, nose and arms slide into one big snowy clump. Water lines the streets creating streams of cold liquid I’m forced to jump over – and I have short legs.

Growing up, my family never went skiing. We spent winter break in South Padre and California.

Needless to say, I could do without the snow. Sure, it’s fun for the first five minutes of a snowball fight until the snow soaks through my mittens and I’m left wondering how long it takes for frostbite to cause me to lose my fingers. Sure, I won’t complain about multiple days of canceled class. And sure, playing in the first snowfall of the year in the middle of the night with my closest friends is fun at any age.

But after four days, I just want to feel warm and dry, walk on solid ground, and be able to drive my truck to school.

So, perhaps you could describe my feelings toward snow as a love/hate relationship. I’ll admit that a blanket of fresh, white snow is incomparably serene, but in the end I will always see snow as just really cold rain.

But growing up in Texas, I’ve at least learned to tolerate it – but only in two-inch intervals, not in blizzard form.