The kids are regularly confused about the season at hand, and about how time progresses in general. They see time in terms of events rather than minutes ticking away in a linear fashion. First comes Halloween, then Daddy’s birthday, then Thanksgiving, then the Polar Express Train Ride with Baba and Nana. They never consider the days between, the endless moments of plunking tinker toys back into their cardboard barrel or the daily tugging on and off of clothes, which will happen roughly 213 times between the two of them before they’re served up questionable hot chocolate on the Polar Express Train.
“After Halloween then it be snow time?” Rose asks trying to get a handle on things.
“Nobody knows when the first snow will come honey; we don’t have control over the weather.”
“What control mean?” She asks. We’re getting into that sticky territory of being two where conversations are like an exciting tennis match. I answer one question and she lobs one right back at me until either my head explodes or I start to sound like a 50’s mom deeply engaged in stirring her afternoon martini: “because that’s just the way it works dear.” Pass the olives.
Truthfully, Rose has an ulterior motive in tracking the arrival of “snow time.” We drive past the twisty indoor slide of our local Burger King on a regular basis. When Rose first saw the colorful indoor playground through her car window, she exclaimed “Donalds! We go there!” Which was true. We had recently returned from a 2 day drive with the children, in which McDonalds playland* was a prominent feature (I know, I know…odes to chard and wild meat and now this?).
I told her that maybe we could go to Donalds playland to have french fries in winter if it was a really snowy day and we didn’t have anything planned and we needed to burn off some energy. Of course all Rose heard was when it snows we’ll be eating french fries, pretty much daily.
This morning it snowed! Our first of the season. Anyone hungry for french fries?
*why do I feel like I just confessed to letting my kids play in traffic with knives duct taped to their fingers?
Snow on crabapples
I guess the chickens need some moccasins or snowshoes – they’ve been milling around the door of the coop all morning like “is it still wet out there?”
As long as she’s got her elephant suit on, Rose is pretty comfortable in the snow
Cabbage and green onions, just chillin’.