"They'll be red-faced!" said my Dad emphatically for the fourteenth time.
He doesn't think it will snow later. Quite a lot of people seem to be taking precautions anyway, from my niece's school to Heathrow Airport. He thinks it's ridiculous. If it snows at all, he says, it'll be a disappointing flurry or two.
The trouble is, it's hard to predict. I made the same mistake in 2010.
"It'll be gone by Tuesday," I remember saying. Famously, that particular snow lasted for two long weeks.
Snow is formed when ice crystals stick together in clouds. It falls, melts and refreezes, all at the same time, something that can only happen between zero and two degrees. It's flimsy stuff.
Until it clumps up the roads and gets in the way of everyone, that is.
So who's right? Louise (who's gone home to avoid the snowbound rush hour) or my Dad (who thinks it'll be icy rain all evening and it'll all be fine)?
"Red-faced I tell you," he reasserted watching the weather forecast at lunchtime.
"Well at least their faces will stand out against the snow," I said, trying to be funny. That of course made no sense.
I'll get my coat.
If you need me, I'll be driving home.
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