Snow Time


All last year, Robbie waited for snow.  It makes sense, right?  We lived in Boston.  There should have been lots of snow; the year before we had endured over 100 inches of the white stuff.  But not last year – there was never enough to even make a good snowball.  As soon as Thanksgiving was over this year, Robbie started asking for snow again.  In his mind, it made sense.  December means Christmas and Christmas means snow.


Finally, after waiting almost two years for a decent snow, Robbie’s hopes and dreams came true.  It wasn’t much – maybe three inches – but it was more than enough to make a certain three-year-old happy.  As soon as I walked through the door from the gym, Robbie ran to me, thrilled to tell me that it had snowed.  We raced through the house, collecting one Spider-Man snow boot from my closet and another from his, gathering gloves and winter coats.  And a carrot.


Then we were off, racing outside to see if the snow was right for snowmen.  It was perfect.  We rolled huge snowballs, stacking them on top of each other to create a snowman.  Robbie proudly handed me the carrot he had remembered to bring for the snowman’s nose and then we collected rocks for the eyes, mouth, and buttons.  We stood back to examine our handiwork, and Robbie declared that we needed to make more snowmen.  He ran back to the house two more times to get carrots and helped me find just the right rocks.


As I took pictures of Robbie near the snow family, we talked about who they were.  I said, “Look, Robbie!  It’s you, Daddy, and me.”  Robbie quickly corrected me.  “No, Mom.  This is you, me, and my new baby sister.”  And, no, he does not have a new baby sister on the way.  He has also informed us that he only wants a baby sister if it can be a boy.  Otherwise he wants a brother…


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