Today’s snow was magic. Oh sure, she had seen two whole winters’ worth of snow before this morning, but today’s snow was something special. We walked out into the blustery fall after preschool but only made it two steps before we were poking it with our fingers and throwing it “splat” onto the concrete.
She learned the word immediately.
At home, given the option between playing in the snow and anything else, the choice was always snow. While I made lunch, she tromped around with Dad in the backyard looking for “big snow.” Instead of taking a nap, we gleefully ran around the football field leaving “paw prints”
with our feet. She threw small snowballs at my legs. “Ah! Aurora got me with a snowball. Aaaah!” I’d run around each time, and she would laugh and laugh.
Being a wimpy parent, of course, I got cold and called it quits before she did. We retreated to the cover of our front yard. Her mittens were soaked through, so I gave her my heavy-duty spare pair. This left me to gather giant balls of “big snow” for her to “splat” by the armload. Pretty soon we had amassed enough to attempt a snowman.
She learned this word immediately as well.
We rung the door-bell and convinced Dad to call his work day quits—all family members were needed for this, the building of Aurora’s first snowman. Immediately upon inserting the eyes, Aurora declared there to be a need for a “happy face.” We found an appropriately smiley stick. Aurora gave him a hug. He was decapitated, but repaired easily.
After much convincing, Aurora returned to the warmth of the inside, but continued to look at her snowman from the front window.
