After I brought Elle home from school on Tuesday, she immediately ran outside to begin working on a snowman. This time we had more snow than on Christmas day, better snow, with which to pack and build and roll huge mounds of round parts for the snowman’s body. Actually, when I say we, I really mean she. I had no part in this besides watching out the window from my cozy world of indoor heating.
Elle gave him eyes made from pecan shells, two arms made of sticks, and buttons fashioned out of more shells. He was a happy fellow. He purposely faced the street so that everyone driving by could see her smiling, joyful snowman – his arms wide open as if to welcome everyone who passed.
By Wednesday morning, the snowman was still smiling but already starting to melt. Thankfully, his melting was happening a lot more slowly than all the other snow. He hung on for dear life and for staggeringly long time, I have to say. However, by the afternoon, with temperatures in the 50s and almost exactly 24 hours after his smiling face started to grace the neighborhood, reality set in.
One of the dogs had peed on him and his eyes and buttons were nowhere to be found. Can you see how his arms have slumped? it’s like he just gave up, simply quit. Also, the frown. OH, THAT FROWN! Poor guy. He had a good run.