Snow Day

The house has been quiet all morning -- all the outdoor noises muffled under the blanket of snow -- so the tapping at the window startles you. You’d been covering up under a blanket yourself, trying to keep your distance from the cold outside. By the time you get to the window, I’m over at the car putting an envelope under the wiper and working on making something out of the snow and ice with my hands.
“You know, we often get visitors who knock on the door.”
I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure you’d even be up yet, and,…
“And you thought you’d risk your life by waking me up?”
I figured I could smile, sweet-talk or joke my way out of it.
“You do sweet-talk?”

“ Come on then mister, get in here out of the cold.”
Thanks, um, I didn’t wake you up, did I?
“ I’m not telling’, you’re just going to have to risk it coming in.”
Actually, I was thinking you might come out and play in the snow.
“Maybe come in and talk about it. Whatcha got in the backpack?”
Snow pants.
“You’ve already got on some -- though I think I liked the dark blue ones better.”
That’s good, ‘cause I brought them for you.
“For me. I’m supposed to wear your cargo pants? Did you see how badly your gloves didn’t fit? Is there a bright red nose and big floppy shoes in the bag for me too?”
Well, the rest of this story’s out in the snow -- you got a better idea?
“Yeah: take the pen and write me in some snow pants of my own.”
No, this is more fun: the waistband cinches up plenty, and you can roll the cuffs up, and look -- you make it look great.
“You just say that so I’ll go along with it.”
No,… you just look,… great.
“Is that the sweet-talking you mentioned earlier?”
Might be, what d’you think?
“Too small of a sample to really be able to say -- you know, we could just stay inside, you could keep up that talking, and I’ll let you know what I think.”
Now you’re just saying that so I’ll go along… and, I gotta say, it’s working. Let me think a little about how I could rewrite this…
“No, come on; I’ll grab my coat and hat and let’s go with what you already had planned. If you want, I’ll even wear gloves.”
Just like that? Leaving it up to me?
“For now. It’s always worked before.”
Well, okay then. I thought we’d start out taking a walk. The snow’s still falling lightly and we’re the only ones out here. We play a few games with our tracks: two sets going to one, back to two; the three-legged tracks; the tracks walking through the street signs or telephone poles (you can be the left foot, I’ll be the right); writing our names in our tracks (really takes some time for me to get the cursive right. “Yeah, when are you gonna start writing in script like a big boy?”); and, of course, the big smiley. Hell of a grin on that one.
We head right down the named street -- when we get to the park, kids are sledding down the small hill down to the path. The hill’s not really steep enough to be much fun, but because of that we’re able to work out a deal to share a saucer:
I give each kid a ride across the field and back using the tow rope, and we get to use it after…

Okay, now you sit down.
“What? You’re kidding right?”
Come on, it’s your turn to ride -- or are you gonna pull me?
You shake your head at me with a “fine”, and brace yourself in the saucer.
I pick up the tow rope and pretend to strain hopelessly against it: Rrrrr, Ack! I think I might've hurt myself.
“Alright, that’s it -- you asked for this” -- and it’s on: you’re grabbing up the snow and I’m getting creamed by the steady stream of snowballs. There goes my hat and you’re still advancing as I twist around trying to dodge then you’re close enough for me to block your arm and pull you down with me in my death spiral. You’ve got me pinned down, sprinkling a few flakes down on me as we both try to catch our breath from the laughing and running.
Okay, you win. I give. Just a minute, and I’ll give you your ride.
But the kids have taken their saucer back, and it seems that moment’s passed.
You’ve still got quite an arm there -- you can be on my team anytime.
“Yeah, I still got it alright, you didn’t stand a chance.” You’re brushing the snow out of my hair now.
Even with those snow pants on I don’t don’t know if you oughtta just sit there in the snow.
“Are you trying to ask me to let you up?”
I am totally fine with it, can’t get much colder than with that snow you got under my collar. It’s just I promised you wouldn’t get cold on this one.
“Doesn’t feel cold like this with you, but it is kinda slowing the story down.”
Yeah, I just needed to catch my breath. You hand me my hat back?
“After I get the rest of this outta your hair.”
Thanks.
“What’s next?”
Well, this woulda been an okay Kodak moment (Kodiak moment? “Ha ha, mighty funny.”). You could have gotten someone to capture Snowman witness your victory over me.
“I didn’t bring Snowman.”
All those pockets in those cargo pants and no Snowman?
“Seemed superfluous.”
Make sure you bring him along, we'll try to find a way to get a picture each time.
Okay, guess we’ll have to make a regular snowman outta snow then. Maybe a great big one. I see a solid 6-foot snowman towering over the park.
“Small problem though -- the snow’s not very packable.”
Would you believe a snowman about the size of your Snowman then. It’s be more in keeping with the size of the carrot and buttons.
“Carrot and buttons?”
Your right thigh pocket.
We get him put together after a few botched tries and collapses. He looks pretty good too.
“Except, no hat.”
Yeah, the thing is, I don’t have any little hats; they don’t fit so well on big lumpy heads.
“Still, he doesn’t look finished.”
Okay, let’s tighten up the strap on my cap and he can wear that.
“No, it’s too cold for you to be out without a hat.”
I’ll be fine, at least I’ve got gloves. Anyway, I thought we might head over to the coffee shop to thaw ourselves out.
“Sounds good. My treat”
Your treat? You’re paying with the money out of my pants?
“No fair! You did that to me on purpose.”
I’m quite sure I can afford to treat you to as many coffees on paper as you can imagine (if it makes you feel better, I’ll let you pay next time we travel).
You get your usual (you’ll let me know if that changes won’t you?), and I order a steamed cider. Will you pick ‘em up for us and grab a place to sit? I’m going to duck into the restroom and dry my hair off if I can.
Ahh, a warm drink hits just the right spot. Look at your hands though -- you can’t tell me they’re not cold.
“My drink’ll warm them up.”
Here, give me your left hand. Let me get my scarf off, and you put that hand right on the back of my neck. Whoa! I was starting to get a little sleepy, but I’m wide awake now. No, put it right back until it warms up. Now the right hand. We really should try to get you to believe in gloves.
“But then you’d miss out on this”, as you scratch the base of my head.
Yes, that’s nice. Arf, arf. Wear my gloves back, won’t you?
“They’re so big that they won’t help anyway. I’ll be fine.”
Okay, tell you what. Halfway back I’ll hold your left hand, the other half I’ll hold your right hand.
“I don’t know if it’ll keep them warmer, but it’d still be nice.”
You ready?
“One more sip left”
We circle back over by our snowman so I can get my hat back, then wander around the rest of the way back, talking on what we’ve been working on, negotiating our next trip.
“Someplace warm.”
Of course, thanks for indulging me this time.
“Sure, it was worth it. You coming in?”
No, I gotta finish writing this up so I can get it to you.
“See you later?”
Yep. Don’t forget to check your windshield.
“Right now?”
No, let me sneak off first.

Soon enough, my cell phone’s calling to me: [New Text Message].
[Options] [View]: “Heart of ice? Are you trying to say I’m cold hearted?”
[Options] [Reply]: No. I’m saying you could melt my heart with your gloveless touch.
Another [New Text Message]
[Options] [View]: “And Mine?”
[Options] [Reply]: I’ll try again with another story…