Snowballing

Snow drifted from the sky all day today. Mama calls home to tell us to be careful of slipping. (As she nearly slips herself.) Papa barks at us to wear high boots. (He'd have told us to stay home if he could.) But our spirits were too high.

We marched after class towards the mall, jumping this way and that, because who can resist the impulse of fresh snow, untouched, pure?

I convinced them both to walk over the field--which we have ignored these past months because we were convinced that it was muddy. On top of that field, where brown stalks peeked from a blanket of white, we lost our heads a little, and had a snowball fight.

My aim sucks. I got hit maybe three times on the head; Chi's arm is good. Kiara ended up with wet pockets, while my mesh bag full of books ended up with scattered ice, and Chi had fistfuls of the white stuff in her hoodie, and down her back. We ended with numb hands, and me exhausted from hysteric laughter.

Snow days have their positive sides too.