Kacia sent this in, apparently as a plea for rescue. She captioned this “early morning breakfast with my dad.” It’s a little photographic PTSD capsule reminding me of the years of my life in which piles of snow like that lay in between me and things to eat. And why are you having “breakfast” in the middle of the darkest part of night? Move south, y’all; it’s sunny down here!

Ahem.

Anyway. Yes. This is awful.

I was going to joke that they could save themselves by presenting a mascot-figure in a snazzy suit and name him “Gentleman Fashion.” But then I noticed the misspelling.

I hope it didn’t put you off your grits and co-cola, Kacia. What? You don’t eat grits and co-cola for breakfast up where the snowdrifts are eyebrow-deep?