Have you ever had that one family member that always stays at your house way too long when they’re in town? Or how about that casserole in the fridge that you keep telling yourself you will eat until you realize it has been in there for five months and it now smells like tires made of rotten eggs doing a burnout? Winter just happens to be my rotten egg relative. I live in South Bend, Indiana – probably the last place on earth that anyone would consider a destination for Spring Break. While others are partying on the beach in Cancun or sipping drinks while lounging by the pool in Miami, we Hoosiers find ourselves shoveling snow and scraping windshields. Wild stuff, I know. Around here, Old Man Winter isn’t that nice grandfatherly figure who tells you stories and gives you cookies. No, around here he is a bitter curmudgeon who wants you off his yard or he’ll hit you with his cane! It’s understandable to endure blizzard-like weather in January, and I will give February the benefit of the doubt too. But come on March! You’re killin’ me smalls! We are now officially on the second day of spring and it looks more the nine-hundredth day of winter outside. I can literally hear my golf clubs calling my name, but I am forced to ignore their cries for help. And it’s all because some fluffy little snowflakes can’t take their freak show up north to Saskatchewan or someplace where people actually like that stuff! Okay, you’re right. I’m being too harsh. I do like snow…up until New Year’s. But once the calendar changes, the season should too. I think it’s time we start cracking down on snow. Let’s pass a law that says no snow can fall after Jan. 1. Oh but wait, I forgot, if we bring Congress in on this then the process will move slower than that geriatric woman driving in front of me during a snowstorm. I guess we’re stuck…just like my car this morning. Didn’t Punxsutawney Phil say there were warmer temperatures on the way? What’s wrong with that guy? I haven’t heard anyone get something so wrong since Manti Te’o went on his first date. Actually I guess the better question is what's wrong with us for thinking some rodent from Pennsylvania has any idea what the weather will be like? Meteorologists must have the worst job security in the world if they can be passed up for a groundhog. I bet he goes back in his hole after pretending not to see his shadow and just laughs it up with all his buddies – “These guys don’t even know what hit ‘em! I mean, I’m a groundhog for cryin’ out loud!” Well since Punxsutawney Phil hung us out to dry, I don’t know who to trust any more. Because really, if you can’t trust a groundhog then what kind of person are you? It looks like I’m just going to have to brave the bitter cold for a little while longer. But it really would be easier to change my rotten egg tires if this snow was gone.