The chances are that many of you will not go hungry or thirsty this morning.

That’s because you’ve got bread and milk. Yes, by God, bread and milk.

As I was preparing this column late last week, the Upstate, including the Lakelands, were under a winter weather warning set for Friday night and stretching into Saturday. The Midlands also were being told to look out for possible snow and ice.

Those reports, of course, touched off a bit of hysteria unique to this wonderful corner of the world we call the Deep South. The reaction was as expected as the rising sun, as predictable and comfortable as a block of “Seinfeld” reruns on TBS.

Basically, people started wigging out, and part of that includes dropping whatever it is you might be doing and reporting straight to the grocery store to buy gallons of milk and loaves of bread.

It happens every time. Every time. Why do we do this? Why?

You just know the following directive was handed out late last week in households across the Lakelands and the Upstate: “Wait, frozen precipitation might fall from the sky for several hours? Fire up the Tahoe, honey! We need bread and milk, the two items in the grocery store that will spoil faster than just about anything else!”

I often wonder what a family of four does with seven loaves of bread and six gallons of milk after a single day of snow has subsided. Make French toast for the youth group at a megachurch? Feed the pigeons West Cambridge Park? Exfoliating milk bath for mom (or dad)?

So feverish is the demand for bread and milk when the word “snow” is even whispered that a friend of mine on Facebook jokingly (???) posted last week that he was going to the store to buy up all the bread and milk and sell it on the street for a profit.

That’s where we are, y’all. That’s where Snowmageddon 2017 has taken us. We’ve got people contemplating becoming bread and milk scalpers, lingering on the corner like those street hawks who peddle tickets to ballgames.

I can hear their rap now. “Who needs pasteurized? I got your pasteurized right here. The whole, the low-fat, the skim, I got ‘em. Got the seven-grain bread, too, but that’ll cost you. I can do two-for-one on the Nature’s Own and throw in a half-gallon of Southern Home two percent.”

The most head-scratching aspect of the whole thing is that grocery stores are literally packed, wall-to-wall, with delicious food that is not loaves of bread and gallons of milk. They’ve got pizza in there, guys. Pasta. All the fruits and veggies you can imagine. Pepsi. Beer. Waffles. Steak. Toaster Strudels. I mean, racks and racks of Toaster Strudels.

Why are we crawling all over each other like the zombies trying to scale that big wall in “World War Z” just to get bread and milk when the ingredients to make tacos are literally 10-feet away?

It doesn’t help the situation when the TV weather folks are breaking in every 15 minutes to give another breathless update on a possibly impending winter weather situation. A chance of snow in the South? That’s a TV weatherperson’s Super Bowl. But at some point it gets a little crazy. Someone needs to check to make sure some of these folks don’t have an interest in Pet and Sara Lee.

Perhaps the bread-and-milk phenomenon is drawing my ire because I don’t like milk. I’m cool with bread. I mean, come on, you make bologna sandwiches with that.

But milk? It’s kind of nasty. Except as a milkshake ingredient. Yes, yes, calcium and strong bones and all that stuff. I know. My hip will probably break any minute now.

So anyway, I hope you made it safely through the cold of the last few days. Now go fix yourself another milk sandwich and enjoy your Sunday.

Chris Trainor is a contributing columnist for the Index-Journal. Contact him at ChrisTrainorSC@yahoo.com. You can follow him on Twitter@ChrisTrainorSC. Views expressed in this column are those of the writer only and do not represent the newspaper’s opinion.