Reflections on snow

I woke up to see white covering the ground. Snow. And I groaned, knowing I’d have to be out the door 15 minutes earlier to uncover my car and shovel a little bit. Then drive very slowly to work. I guess this is what it’s like to be an adult.

Because, I remember being a kid – knowing that it was gonna snow in the morning. Excitedly, I would go to bed, hoping I would wake up to the words “snow day.” And when I did wake up, I slowly opened my eyes to the gleaming, seemingly pristine brightness of white snow. I felt the heat of my house hover over me like a warm blanket and ran downstairs to drink hot cocoa.

Then I would run out to the lockers in the garage and find my pink snow-veralls. I would put them overtop of my pants and sweater. I would zip up my winter coat, and throw on my snow boots. Gloves, a hat, and a scarf, and out the door I went. All my siblings and I, and my dad, would go out and shovel the driveway. And I didn’t mind it, because I knew when I was done we could play. And the neighborhood would have a snowball fight and we would make snow forts. My best friend at the time, Ali, would come over and we would make snow salad bars. My brother and I played for hours. And finally, as afternoon came – We would go inside. Our noses red like Rudolph’s and our cheeks rosy. We would stomp the ice off of our shoes and throw our clothes in the laundry room and get on our jammies and be nice and warm.

That’s what I want.

Yet now I am an adult. I don’t have snow-veralls. I don’t have snow boots. But I still want to play.



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