Eh, sonny? You call this a snowstorm? There's barely a foot on the ground! Why in my day, we would tunnel our way through eight feet of snow for a mile just to get to the chapel, stopping along the way to offer rides on our backs to all the widows in the ward. Yessir, get a half-dozen old ladies stacked up on yer shoulders, now that was work!
You young whipersnappers don't know how easy you have it.