That's Ezra Jack Keats, thank you very much. A perfect picture book.
But it's also a day to stay in and grade papers like a maniac, watch the lovely whiteness pile up outside the window, drink tea, grade papers, play with Freya in the drifts, ride my trainer, grade papers, eat the soup I made last night, and grade papers. You get the drift.
My only regret: that it's my next to last day with my Humanities class; they are a ton of fun, and we needed the two hours.