The First (Harrowing) Snow Angels of the Season

Look really closely at the picture below…


Can you make out that outline on the left-hand side? It’s a little more clear than the same one on the right. 

Look closely. See it? 

A snow angel – the first of the year. Made by Version 1.0 ON.THE.BARN.ROOF!?! V1.0, don’t you realize you are supposed to be the good one?

Let me give you a little background…

We were at my parents for Thanksgiving, and lucky for the kids, about 6″ of beautiful, fluffy snow had fallen the day before we got there. Given that snow isn’t as prevalent where we live as it is where my parents do, the kids were ecstatic to play outside. For hours. On end.

And we were fine with it – in fact, we ourselves considered it a break. That is, until I looked out to check on them…

I stood in the family room, warmed by the fire, looking out over the backyard in search of the one dressed in black, and the one dressed in powder blue. You’d think, in a landscape of white as far as the eye could see, it wouldn’t be too tough to find them. However, it wasn’t inherently obvious where they were. But after a minute or two, find them I did. Or at least 2.0. For a split second, anyway.

Not wanting to alarm anyone other than the husband (who was engrossed in football), I hissed, “Hey, get over here,” as I gestured to the picture windows.

And then in a singsong voice – for the sake of anyone else who might be listening – “Would you mind telling the kids to stay in an area of the backyard where we can see them?”  

Followed by (more hissing under my breath): “Your kids are climbing on the back of the barn roof out there – V2.0 just popped his head over the ridge line! Look, you can see where his hands were on the peak!”

The husband, as he starts for the door: “Sure thing.”

Me (still hissing): “Do not get mad at them.”

The husband: “Then why are you mad at me?”

Me (still hissing): “I don’t want to alarm my parents.”

The husband (now hissing back): “You keep hissing at me. And really, do you think this will phase them? Let’s not forget you were – or should I say are – their Version 2.0.”

I completely glowered at that. Because it may or may not be true.

But that is irrelevant to the story.

Incidentally, I hoped the door hit him on his way out…

Anyway, the husband went out and cajoled the kids off the roof, explaining to them that their mother was insane and not to get caught next time. (Hey wait, aren’t we supposed to be a team in this whole parenting-thing.)

Really though, I wasn’t completely mad at them. My thought was that there is a certain je ne sais quoi in having your kids be those kids at a formal family gathering like Thanksgiving. You know, the kids making snow angels on the barn roof…

Sigh. And I thought the snow would offer us a break…