Conspiracy Theory

Don't like the snow storm today, folks? Blame my husband. Here's how I came to this conclusion. It might get convoluted....try to follow....then again, it might be pretty straightforward once it's all written out. Typed out.

I'm not a leg shaver. Not regularly, anyway. I am blessed with such light leg hair that unless you were right up close enough to say "wow, that man has really skinny legs!", you'd never know they were the way they were. I thought about shaving them one day in October, but then I got lazy, so I left them. Fast forward to yesterday. The day before today. Today has a Dr.'s appointment written in on the calendar. Today's appointment is the second I've booked, because on January 3rd, I had one, but I called to cancel, because...I hadn't shaved my legs. I'm dead serious.
Yesterday, I shaved 'em. Boy, did I. We're talkin' smooth legs like....smooth legs. Reason being, my appointment is to get an all over check-up, list out all my aches and pains, and have them looked after. One of my aches is my left knee. I got Skecher's Shape-Ups last Spring and while Spencer and I went for a walk, my newly-shoe-aligned knee was grinding so loudly, Spencer thought I was walking on gravel. And he was like ten feet away from me.
So I shave my legs, knowing that Dr. M. is going to have me roll up my pant legs (or worse, get under that paper sheet) while he bends and straightens, twists and turns my knee around, to see what part of my knee isn't doing what it's meant to do.
This morning I wake up to SNOW. Snow of all snows. Our driveway is pretty much filled right in by drifts. Thankfully, Trevor next door hit it with his snowblower....and the Dr.'s office calls to say they really want to close early, can I make it in "asap". I say "why don't I just reschedule, it's nothing urgent, and then you girls can condense your other appointments and head home". We rebook, and hang up.
Then it hits me.
I shaved my legs for NOTHING.

Somehow I believe that my husband had something to do with the "storm". Somewhere north of the city, he's positioned a ginormous fan that's blowing "lake effect" something or other all over the place. Trevor's in on it, too. He's not grimacing in pain from the windburn as he clears the driveways. He's grinning. I'm on to him.

I don't get my knee looked at, but my husband gets a wife with shaved legs.