Snow Day
Every year in New York, we’d look at
February as a hopeful harbinger of spring. People would start to
think that winter was winding down – and then
President’s Day weekend would hit.
It is my steadfast belief that New York will always get a pretty
decent snowstorm right around President’s Day weekend; a sort
of “surprise! Winter’s not done yet!” kind of
in-your-face gesture from Mother Nature. I always kind of liked it;
sure we were winter-weary by that time, but I always felt confident
that it’d be the last gasp from cold weather and I’d
enjoy it to the hilt. This year, to my delight, we got one down
here in Texas too.
We received (and don’t laugh here) a
decent four-to-six inches of snow here. Maddie looked at all the
frosted trees as we drove to school and gasped, “Mommy! It
looks just like New York!” Both girls were up and squealing
as soon as they saw the winter wonderland yesterday morning, and I
threw my obsessive-compulsive schedule out the window and let them
control part of the morning. Maddie and Cora bundled up for a
morning romp through the snow as I fixed their breakfast, yipping
like puppies and scattering wet powder everywhere. I had Maddie
wear snow boots to school solely so I could let her stomp through
the drifts on her way inside, and she cast a rueful eye out the
window as school began, eager to be playing outside some more.
Cora spent the day revolving through the door – dress up,
play outside in the cold, get soaked through, throw everything in
the dryer for twenty minutes while she warmed up with a cup of warm
chai, get dressed again, and start all over. Brian worked from home
for the day, and over lunch the two of them built an enormous snow
man, kindly leaving him blank so Maddie could put the finishing
touches on him after school.
As soon as we got back from school pick-up that’s precisely
what the girls did, adding the hat and scarf and carrot nose and
stone eyes and button mouth. They’re pleased as punch with
Frosty, who stands out in our side yard and stares right at us
while we sit at our kitchen table eating. The snow’s been the
nice wet snow, with fat flakes, that makes for awful soggy mittens
but wonderful snowmen and snowballs.
Yes, I’d tire of it if I were living back in New York; the
hours of dressing and undressing, the loads of laundry, the
sniffles and colds.
But right now, we’re having a fantastic time during our white
out.
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