Well, here we are in Richmond, where winter’s cruel sense of humor is on full display. For weeks, we’ve waited, begged, and stared at the heavens like expectant children hoping Santa would drop a dusting of white magic upon our otherwise dreary January. And finally, yesterday, it happened—the glorious arrival of snow. Not just any snow, mind you, but the proper kind: the fluffy, picturesque, postcard-worthy stuff that turns even the ugliest parking lots into magical tundras of joy. The dogs, of course, went mad with happiness, bounding about like furry snowplows with no regard for decency or my clean trousers.

But just as we were starting to enjoy ourselves, as we dared to imagine a day of snowmen, sledding, and maybe a sneaky snowball ambush or two, the weather pulled a classic Clarkson road-test twist—disappointment. It started raining. Freezing rain, no less, which is essentially snow’s passive-aggressive cousin.

I mean, what is the point of freezing rain? If it’s going to be that cold, just be snow! Freezing rain doesn’t inspire joy or outdoor frolicking; it inspires sliding helplessly down your own driveway and swearing creatively when your umbrella turns into an ice sculpture. Even the dogs, once delirious with excitement, now stand at the window looking deeply betrayed, their paws refusing to touch the treacherous slop outside.

And so, the scene outside is one of complete misery. That stunning white carpet has turned into a soggy, slippery mush that resembles the leftovers from a particularly large Slush Puppie. Richmond, once a winter wonderland, is now an apocalyptic skating rink with zero charm and a lot of bruised egos.

Of course, we know what happens next. The sun will come out, as it always does, melting the ice into an unholy mix of puddles and mud. By afternoon, everything will look exactly as it did before, just wetter, dirtier, and somehow sadder. And we’ll all sit here thinking, “Is that it? Is that the winter we waited for?”

Still, for a brief, fleeting moment, we had the snow. The dogs loved it. We loved it. And if the freezing rain taught us anything, it’s that when you’ve got the good stuff—be it a snow day, a brilliant car, or a perfect Sunday roast—you’d better enjoy it before life dumps cold water all over it. Or, in Richmond’s case, freezing rain.