Back in My Day

I never thought that I would stand out in the snow, in full snow regalia (long johns, sweats, sweatshirt, carhardts, snow boots, sunglasses, gloves, and hat) with my hands on hips and say:

"BACK IN MY DAY WE TOOK A SNOW BALL IN THE FACE AND LIKED IT."

OR

"BACK IN MY DAY WE PLAYED OUT IN THE SNOW FOR HOURS! AND WE DIDN'T CRY!"

OR

"BACK IN MY DAY, MY SISTER AND I LIVED FOR A BLIZZARD. AND WE DIDN'T

FIGHT! WE GOT OUT THERE AND TEAMED UP AND MADE SOME OF THE BEST DAMNED

SNOW FORTS AND TUNNELS THAT YOU HAVE EVER SEEN."

My children disappoint me. They are a disgrace to snow loving children everywhere.

Usually it's about two minutes in the snow and one of them is crying. Doesn't matter which one, there seems to be a crying rotation.

Then one of them gets snow down their snowsuits, due to a well aimed snowball, and sobs "I'm so wet and cold! I"M SO WET AND COLD!"

James Henry's favorite thing to do is scream like he's been shot and then hysterically sob, "They throw their snow balls hard! My face hurts!"

IT'S SNOW FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

Currently the girls are the only two of the four kids still in the snow. They're building a fort. And my big old cry baby boys are sitting inside, cradling cups of hot tea close to their faces, and eating soup.

"Thanks mom, it's brutal out there."

Ugh.