There are three factor that started me down the path of a snow-despiser:
1. I did not grow up with snow.
2. When I was fifteen I was in a terrible accident involving black ice, my favorite people in the world, two spins in opposing traffic and three complete flips in the car into a snowbank. Mercifully no one was even injured, but I still can't drive in the snow without having some post-traumatic stress.
3. I hate wearing socks.
My children, however, think snow is the most magical thing that can happen. Nothing is quite as thrilling to them to look out the window first thing in the morning to find the world carpeted in white, fluffy snow. The 'hobbit hole hill' in our backyard is just perfect for sledding, and hiding in the tree fort under a hundred-foot old tree, quiet with snow, is enchanting. Samwise the Pup romps and dives in the snow, tosses snout-fulls of it in the air and catches them with a bite.
After preschool today my siblings, freed from college, are coming over to play in the snow with us. Having children is giving me a second chance to learn to love snow, and I will embrace it!