Sunday, 23 January 2011
Today it snowed. It was the best kind of snow in this country because it was unexpected enough that no body had the time to panic. So it was largely absent of the customary chaos.
In the sight of snow Jack mind is turned to one thing, snowball fight. The moment flakes appear in the sky Jack begins to calculate whether it will be enough for him to make a decent snowball.
I've spent a lot of time this winter educating him on the different types of snow and ice and he's now an expert at identifying each type, or whether or not a road is likely to be slippery and even how slippery. Of all the lessons I've given him this is the one he chose to learn.
A few weeks ago Jack wasn't a fan of the snow. Mostly because when it snows in England the resulting traffic means that we can't go anywhere. This year they've canceled the Ben10 truck tour which we had planned to attend which just added salt to the wound. He told me once that he was going to go live in America with Grandma because it doesn't snow there. He changed his mind when he later spoke to Grandma and found out about the 3 feet they'd had overnight.
On the way home from school Jack examined the falling flakes. They were big and fluffy, they were sticking, the air was relatively warm, the snow on the road or under foot was being compressed rather than turning to slush and there wasn't much ice. Jack knows from my teachings that all these signs make for perfect snowballs. So we geared up and went outside for a fight.
Jack is good in a snowball fight. He sneaks, hides and trash talks. You want some? I'm gonna bring you some pain! His snowballs, while poorly aimed, are well made and solid. If you turn your back you will, eventually, get hit and he's not opposed to shoving snow down your pants should you leave yourself vulnerable in such a way. He runs and screams and doesn't mind you fighting back. We'll fight until he starts to feel the water seep through his gloves or trousers.
Toward the end of this particular fight Jack suggested we make a snowman, this equated to me stacking giant snowballs whilst he pelted me with little ones. When he realized that we didn't have the necessary confectionery with which to make the eyes and nose and most importantly arms, he told me to just make it as tall as I could. We called it a snowtem pole and it was taller than me.
Posted by Derek Morrey at 09:00