When I was 13, I got tired of waiting for the bus in the Caribou middle school auditorium after early dismissal one day for a blizzard. It was a bad winter, we'd already had several blizzards, and it had all gotten pretty old, just so boring. So I decided to walk home about 8/10ths of a mile. NBD. Did it all the time. Oh yeah, and I'd forgot my mittens & hat that day.

I froze the tops of my ears and all my finger tips in the 10 minutes it took to run in the blowing snow to my father's office that was a little less than half way. He was closing up to go home but luckily was still there to let me in, and he got me thawed out. It was . . . painful. It took a week for all the black bits to peel off and they're still sensitive to cold 55 years later.

I think us all putting up with hearing about frostbite for 5 damn days is worth it if one dumb kid like me doesn't have that experience.