In today’s edition of Sometimes It’s No Fun To Be An Adult, I rarely get snow days.

And if I do, well . . . let’s just say that something really, really icy has happened. Like the Snowpocalypse of 2010, say — the only time I can ever recall my newspaper closing. We were permitted to leave an hour early two weeks ago when a storm came rumbling in, but we’d already sent everything to press for the day and were basically chillin’.

Literally.

But oh, friends, I remember the glorious deliciousness that was the snow day as a kid. My sister/partner-in-crime was often awake before me, and I could tell by the way she was rumbling around and talking with my dad whether or not schools were closed.

Even without the Sister Barometer, though, I had the most scientific of all methods for determining whether we would be home for the day: observing how the light was slanting through the blinds in my bedroom. If the normally-dark pink was noticeably brighter — back-lit, say, though I didn’t know that word — it was probably safe to go back to sleep. Seeing that bright light meant we’d been blanketed with the fluffy stuff, and schools in Maryland don’t generally play around with that.

Once we finished helping Dad shovel out, we’d all pile inside to shed wet boots and jackets and wait (im)patiently for hot chocolate. If we were fortunate enough to get “snowball snow,” we’d fling ourselves around the yard for a while trying to create Mr. Snowman and, perhaps, his lovely (and shorter) wife. Mom would produce lollipops for his eyes and mouth, and we’d dig around for an old scarf to keep him “warm.”

Those were some happy, freewheelin’ snow days.

Even if apartment living means no outdoor space to build a snowman (and c’mon, I probably wouldn’t be out there, anyway), it’s nice to take in the scenery from our elevated view in winter. With all the slush, there’s been plenty to see right from our windows — you know, where it’s warm and quiet. Like this couple who were . . . drawing something? Signalling someone? Horsing around?

For me, the new snow day means reading inside with “Judge Judy” in the background, editing photos, sneaking pieces of chocolate from our stash. Baking cupcakes. Cleaning. We’ve had a few self-imposed “snow days” when the weather was dreary on a weekend — when we stayed in all day to get caught up on everything and nothing.

Before our wedding, Spencer and I used to talk about how cozy it would be to eventually snuggle up with blankets as the snow drifted down outside our own home — neither of us needing or wanting to be anywhere else.

That feeling hasn’t worn thin just yet.

And now I make hot chocolate for two.