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Snow Day

I wake up and look out the window to see my world has gone white. It covers the bushes, trees, sidewalks, and lawn in front of my house. Falling from the sky are more fluffy flakes the size of one of those gum balls you get from the machines at the grocery store. I slip on my slippers and pad down to the living room to turn on the news to find out if I have to wake my children for school. I find them all sitting around the television, anxiously waiting for the weather report. I can see in their faces that they are hoping for a snow day.

"All local school are canceling classes today due to the winter storm we are receiving," says the weather man. The news is followed by a loud "WHOOP" from all three of my children as they begin to do their snow day dance. My daughter reaches for the phone to call her best friend. Excitedly, she makes plans to go sledding, build a snow man, and casts a mischievous glance at her brothers as she mentions bombarding a few boys with some snowballs later on in the day. My boys have already scrambled into their snowsuits and are heading out the door.

"Aren't you going to have breakfast first?" I ask my oldest son.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about breakfast!" This, coming from what we call the human garbage disposal. I am followed into the kitchen where I start beating eggs and ask my daughter to start making some toast.

The three of us sit around the kitchen table and talk about our plans for the day. Rather, they talk about their plans and I sit and listen. My daughter realizes that I haven't talked about what I wanted to do.

"What about you, Mom?" she asks.

"Well, what you three have planned sounds like fun, but I have things I need to get done around here. I have to shovel the walkway and spread the ice melt around so that no one slips when they pass our house."

They take my answer for granted, and continue about their day. I start to get ready for my day, piling on warm clothing and digging out the shovel in the garage. As I start to head for the sidewalk to begin, I recall the days when I was included in my children's snow day activities. I remember helping them pile into their snow suits, usually having to peel them back off because suddenly there is a bathroom emergency, and start all over again. I remember holding their hands as they tried to maneuver over the slick ice-covered sidewalks to get to the hill where all the sledders go. I remember having to sit on the sled with my children, as they were afraid to go down the hill by themselves. I remember laughing gleefully at their antics as they bombarded one another with snowballs. I remember, and I wish for those days to return. Through them I had been able to relive my own childhood snow days, taking part in their activities had helped to keep me feeling young. Now they go off on their own, and I am saddened, yet happy at the same time. I still have my memories.

"Mom!" I hear someone shout, and I turn around. Standing before me are my three children. Each of them have a snow ball in their hands. Each of them launch it at me. With a whoop of my own, I grab a handful of snow, and pelt it back at them.

Yes, I still have my memories, and there are more to be made...

Learn more about this author, Kelly Sandefur.
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