I love snow. I love its whiteness, its brightness, its purity. I love to look at it fall. I love to see it cling to the trees. I love that it makes the nighttime look like day. I love that my kids go outside and create snowmen, and Colts players (if you use plenty of imagination) and forts.
I even love the snow days, sometimes. It depends if the kids are getting along or if they are in one of their “idiot-moron, idiot-moron, idiot-moron” boxing matches. I’m not sure why they think they can say these things to each other, when we tell them that we don’t say things like that (except, of course, when someone cuts me off in traffic). Anyway, we are working on those attitudes, and I’m trying to exercise consistency, which is hard when I am tired and just want to stare out the window at snowflakes.
Too bad my little munchkins didn’t get a snow day today. But I anticipate once they walk in the door there will be a scurrying of their growing boy feet, searching the house for those mismatched gloves. (They’re like socks in our house. If you can find a pair that at least look somewhat alike, you’re good. As long as they aren’t both right handed.) Then they’ll get their snow pants on, and their hats and coats. And I predict there will be some frustration when they realize that the boots that fit last year no longer fit. So I will probably hear, “What am I supposed to wear then!? Sandals?” At this point, I will smile calmly and suggest another alternative and send them on their way. Unless I don’t smile and I say, “Yes, wear the sandals, Smarty Pants.” When they’re done building Peyton Manning throwing a touchdown pass to Marvin Harrison, they will come in asking for hot chocolate and I will happily oblige. Unless, of course, they come in screaming at each other because So-and-So threw a snowball at So-and-So and it hit his head and he’ll probably not be able to go to school tomorrow because of his red ear and his apparent head injury. In that case, I will quickly make hot chocolate and tell them to love each other. Then I will do my own scurrying, up to the tub for a warm bath and a view of the peaceful snow-covered yard, where Peyton and Marvin shrink little by little.