Frolicking in the Snow

There are a few things in life I truly hate:

1. Grocery Shopping
2. Socializing with Acquaintances for No Apparent Reason
3. Incoherent, Unnecessary, Reverberating-Off-Wooden-Floors Noise
4. Dressing Children Up in Appropriate Snow Clothes Simply to Play

The fourth item quickly skyrocketed to number one this afternoon.

I have been shamelessly putting my boys off all week, callously ignoring their pleas to play in the first real snowfall of the winter. Snow days on Monday and Tuesday? Pshaw. Absent-minded promises I'll buy snowboots by Saturday. Who cares?

Until today.

With the majority of the appropriate snow clothes in our dog-hair-covered possession, I finally gave in this afternoon. It took almost half an hour to get everyone dressed (which is roughly the equivalent of a fiery hot afternoon in the underworld--think everyone sweating and complaining by the end). Nevertheless, I instructed the careful layering of numerous items, then I tucked, I pulled, I zipped, I velcroed, and, finally, I ski-masked.

My youngest one reminded me of the poor little brother in "A Christmas Story." He couldn't get down the steps.

































Then the Aftermath.


Arrgh.