Snowmen

I was upstairs in the living room when I heard the front door open.  When it didn’t shut I got up to investigate.  William was standing under the front porch.  He was wearing Elizabeth’s straw hat over my straw hat, snow boots, underpants and carrying two handfuls of baby carrots.

“Do you want to make a snowman?”  I asked him.

“Yes.”

I brought him inside and got some clothes on him because that’s what good mothers do – they have their children actually wear clothes outside in single digit weather!  Boom!  Instant “Good Mother” right there!

Elizabeth, William and I went outside to make a snowman.

New England snow is different.  It’s usually heavy, wet, back breaking snow that freezes the next day with a nice crunchy top.  The kind of snow that turns to ice for skiing – the way nature intended!  But this snow was different!  It was powdery, even a day later and it didn’t stick to anything, even itself.  How annoying!  I tried to roll a ball – fail.  I tried to make a square with a shovel – fail. 

The first time my autistic son requests a snowman and the snow won’t cooperate?  No, it will cooperate I decided.  I went over to the mound I had shoveled off the driveway the day before.  I carefully cut out a bottom square, then topped it with two more.  We put branches in for arms, twigs for lips, ice chunks for eyes and a carrot for a nose. 

Best. Snowman. Ever.*

*Well, not really.