Why I hate snow days aka You ain't getting sh#$ done today lady...

Let's start with the fact that I KNOW that I live in North Dakota. I am fully aware that a blizzard warning can just come out of nowhere and wreck my day. Most kids (especially my teenager) sit anxiously by the television saying "Come ON SNOW day!" I, on the other hand, mutter under my breath "Oh no you better not, Mother nature, I swear to God..." We never close school here. If you live on the coast (east or west), when the first flakes fly, you are at Wal-Mart buying water, batteries, flashlights....I might be at the liquor store buying a second bottle of wine...And I may or may not think its a good idea to buy an extra gallon of milk. Yesterday was one of those times I chose not to...Well...I need to remember, that I am not just a resident of the land of arctic tundra, I am also an autism mom. Other than the fact, I had to use excessive force to shove the two foot snow drift away from my door, squeeze my body through the door and frame, and expend way too much energy clearing a one foot path so my dog could pee...Chandler and I had a great morning. He slept in late, meaning I slept in late. We hung out,  I ate cookies and diet coke  for breakfast, all in all, a great start...then I decided to clean the upstairs. I came downstairs after about ten minutes. He had been practicing his new milk pouring skills, and it was soaked into the paper towels, the cake mix, and the unopened box of pudding (mental note to self..put your groceries away..always)..No big deal, I praised him for trying, had him help me clean up the last of what milk we had, and got him some juice. Twenty minutes go by...I come back down to check on my silent son....who is now eating crackers he helped himself to, and there is a brand new French Vanilla ice cream melting on the counter with no lid....sigh..."Chandler, where's the top?" I ask. He walks me to the couch where it is...face down...sigh. Scrub, refreeze, wipe, sigh. "Ask mom for help, okay?" I get him a bowl of ice cream, clean up the mess, and I see his breakfast from this morning (granola bar, toast..) in the sink. Well, that's why he's helping himself to food. I decide a clean upstairs isn't worth having to also clean the downstairs, so I get out Candyland. He sits down, looks at me, and walks upstairs...alright, I'll vacuum...I start, and pause to hear the water running upstairs...I run upstairs to see that we have not only decided on a bath, but that all the laundry I was going to bring downstairs is now in the tub...floating, soaking, and Chandler is smiling, saying "Help."....How can I get mad? I can't. All I can do is scoop out the clothes, run the bath, and give up on having a day to get anything done. What I am getting done is some learning lessons with Chandler. Productive? Yes. Just not for housework.