During a day of cold, rain or snow, I’d like to hide away in my home snuggled underneath some blankets. I comfort myself with food, warmth and well..laziness. I would often peak at the falling snow through the foggy windows. What beauty it was to see. I would say it was a sea of white dust and the trees were covered in its blankets.
My bed was my favorite spot where I was binge watching television shows on cooking, however without the desire to cook anything. My son on the other hand was a bit more antsy. “Can I play in the snow?!” He would repetitively ask me. “Not yet, wait until a little while later. At least wait for the snow to stop falling”, I replied. He then would frown and drag his feet to go do something else to occupy his mind.
After sometime later, fresh into the afternoon I finally agreed to let him go outside. So, I marshmellowed him with the multiple layers of clothing. We grabbed my oldest brother to join us. He opened up the front door and ran for the yard. His expression was infectious, just full of joy. He just grazed the snow with his gloved hands, testing its texture and chill. Then, he started pounding the ground with his boots as he looked back at each footprint.
The main thing he had anticipated was building a snowman. My son and brother tried cuffing the snow together in their hands and then rolling the pieces into larger balls of snow. However the snow wasn’t compacting enough to create a snowman. They were relentless in their trials of building one. I didn’t want to disappoint them, so I just kind of directed them into different types of fun.
First, I just started shuffling my feet, so I would create a cloud of dust behind me. My son laughed at the magical powder following me and decided to join the fun. So we moved onto making snow angels. When that got boring, I got the great idea to try to write our names in the snow. It didn’t quite work as well as I had planned. It was hard to differentiate between the writings and holes of footprints. Plus, everyone was just in their own little fun world that everyone’s names were getting stepped on and crossed. Which stirred up some frustrations, leading us into our next step of fun.
SNOWBALL FIGHT! Oh, the joy of a classic game of snow battle fights. With a snow like this, we couldn’t prepare ourselves with a fort, so it became a game of chase. It took a couple of times before mastering how to create snow balls in snow like this, however it was possible and effective. We all laughed while running in fear. Our adrenaline was rising as we would quickly scramble to make snowballs before our opponents got us first. The key is to make the best snowballs and making the most accurate throws.Sometimes we rushed through it and sometimes we took our time enough to made sure we would get the next person really good.
We lost track of time with the amount of fun we were having, but it may have only been a half hour that has past. We finally decided to go inside once we couldn’t feel our extremities. We all started shaking the snow off of us in the foyer. The snow latched onto our clothing as the warmth confused it. We shredded the layers off of us, and then ran for the living room for blankets and comfort. I threw my son’s pajamas at him and then dressed back into my sweats. It was officially soup and hot chocolate time now!
Overall the experience was fun, magical and worth every snow ball to the face. My son’s laughter and broad smiles were worth every second of it all. Moments like these last forever. It carries into our adulthood as every snow day is a time of reminiscing. The snow falling just instantly awakes the child within, replicating that excitement to grab your coat and boots to join its splendor. So, we get to live curiously through our children now. The peace after the rush is just as memorable; the tradition of hot chocolate and soup, and the warmth of a throw blanket from the wicker basket. Most of all, our reasoning for snuggles afterwards is what completes these experiences. I truly can’t wait for the next snow day.