"You put your clothes away, didn't you?" came Rob's voice accusingly from the other end.
I looked outside. It was snowing. Ah, that explained it. The previous week, Rob and I were on our way to our mostly-weekly sushi feast ("All-You-Can-Eat Sushi only $12.95!"), and the weather was gorgeous: warm, lovely, clear, and bright.
"You know," I said, "It's been so nice out lately that I was thinking of ..."
"DON'T you DARE!" Rob cut me off.
I looked at him. "What?"
"Don't you DARE put your winter clothes away," he said emphatically. "You know what happened last time."
"Actually, I wasn't even thinking about the clothes yet," I told him, "I was thinking about shaving Chewie down for the summer." (For those of you who haven't met Chewie, he's our Cocker Spaniel. During the winter, we let his hair grow out so that he looks rather like a grizzly bear cub with a dog mask on. Or a dog in a grizzly bear suit. But I digress.)
"Don't you DARE," Rob repeated. "You know if you do that it's going to snow again."
"Yeah, I'm still not quite convinced it's really Spring yet," I agreed.
And that was that. This weekend, Charlie had been trying to get me to shave Chewie down for the Spring/Summer, but I held fast. I also did not put my winter clothes away. So the snow was not, could not be, in any way shape or form, my fault.
Now I only had to convince Rob.
"I didn't!" I protested. "And I didn't shave Chewie down either!"
"Well, you must have done something!" he yelled. "banshree hates you, by the way."
"Oh, come ON!" I yelled back, "this is in NO way my fault! You can't blame me this time. I didn't even turn off the pellet stove for the winter."
Charlie came outside at that point to see what was going on (I was outside smoking a cigarette and looking incredulously at the snow falling). "Who's that?" he asked curiously.
"It's Rob," I replied. "He's trying to blame me for the snow."
"Snow?" said Charlie, "This isn't snow."
And true, at this point it was a bit wet as snows go, but it was definitely snow.
"Charlie says it isn't snow," I relayed to Rob.
"Oh, well then we've got a whole helluva lot of WHITE RAIN covering our lawn and our driveway," said Rob sarcastically.
"It's snowing at Rob's, and it's sticking," I told Charlie.
"Not snow," he repeated, "Just a very cold rain."
I stared at him. There were snowflakes sticking here and there to his shirt.
"Honey," I said gently, "There are snowflakes. On your shirt. It is snowing."
He looked down, and brushed them off with a look of disdain. "That's just rain beading up on the material," he insisted.
I decided to go back inside. "Charlie refuses to believe it's snowing," I informed Rob.
"Sleet! I'll give you sleet," Charlie yelled from outside the door.
"I still know this is your fault," said Rob.
I sighed. "Okay, fine. But it's not my fault. So unless you'd like to berate me some more for this snow for which I am in no way to blame, I'm gonna let you go."
"I totally blame you," said Rob.
"Okay, tell you what. I'm going to hang up, and if you think of a concrete and logical reason to blame me for the snow, you give me a call back."
"Ohhhh ... you.....all right."