Why do kids like the goddamn snow so much?
I mean, I know why: For them it’s fun. They get to jump around in it, make snowmen, build forts, have snowball fights, catch snowflakes on their tongue, and that first snowfall pretty much symbolizes the coming of Christmas – which in turn, means presents for them. Okay, so that was actually an easy question to answer.
It could be -34 degrees outside (and it was last week where I live) and my kids would still want to go out in the stupid snow.
Fucking lunatics.
Have I really become so jaded over the years when it comes to the winter weather? Was it those years of shoveling it and trying to find places to put it so a car could rest nicely in the driveway? Could it be one too many slippery walks that resulted in embarrassing falls to the ground?
Maybe. But I think as adults we get too caught up in having to shovel that heavenly dust, and having to deal with driving in it, and putting on those extra layers.
I don’t like wearing winter boots. I find them heavy on my feet, and thus I hate winter because of it. Yeah, I realize that’s a pathetic set of terms and conditions in my iTunes of life, but thems the ways I wants it. If I can’t wear Converse All-Stars or flip flops, I’m not in a good mood.
The other morning, my kids were playing on a snow mountain before school. I think we should clarify that by “mountain” I mean it’s about three and a half feet tall. It’s less of a mountain, and more of a pile that was put at the side of the road by a city plow. But to a six year old girl, it’s a friggin’ mountain – so we’ll call it a mountain.
“Daddy, look at me,” my little angel shouted to me from the top. “You gotta come up here! It’s so awesome up here!” Of course, I walked up the side to the top – but not before thinking about how her and I were actually on eye-level with each other. She was now seeing everything as I see it, but without all the thoughts of bills, payments, and what to cook for dinner. How magical, that must be. To be that innocent again. To not have those cares. To just enjoy the moment as it is and exist within the fun that is the moment. Beautiful. Fucking beautiful.
And then I came to the understanding of the magic that kids feel when they play in the snow. It’s easy to say why kids love playing in the snow – it’s better to understand it, though.
And as I walked up the side of the “mountain” and stood next to her to see what she saw, I could start to feel it too.
And then I sank into the mountain.
You see, Ryleigh is six years old and about 55 lbs soaking wet. I clock in at one-ninety-five. This mountain was not meant for me. As I slowly went deeper into this dirty snow, I felt it go into my boots, up my pant leg, and stain my soul. Reality set back in, and I thought about how after dropping the kids off at school, I’d have to either change my went pants or sit in them all day. Stupid snow.
So here’s the thing – the snow is pretty fun. Even for us adults. There’s no reason we can’t build snowmen, have snowball fights, go tobogganing, or throw our drunk buddies into piles of yellow snow when we’re pub crawling. The problem is we all consider ourselves too busy, and we think we have more important things to do. We see snow as something we need to shovel in order to get in the car and get to work. We see it as a detriment to our daily lives. Maybe if we, as adults, weren’t such fucking idiots all the time we’d enjoy more things in life.
Maybe.
-ryan
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