It was the morning after last night's snow. Only a flake or two fell now, and the neighborhood was silent, like a little boy under his thick blankets, breathing evenly, without worry, not a nightmare in sight. The sky was still grey, but not dark. I was the first person to enter this transformed world of whiteness. I took a few pleasurable steps, the snow almost to my waist. I smiled to myself, how come no one else thought to come out here to listen to the snow crinkle under their boots? I looked behind me to see my father sipping a cup of coffee and giving a look of encouragement.
So I barreled through the walkway to our front yard. I remember thinking later that day how much more beautiful it was before my frolicking had gouged and deformed the once perfect veil of white. I didn't care at the time, adrenaline burst into my blood stream, and I felt my heart well up as I dove in, throwing the snow all over the place. Now, I was but a young discoverer of the magnificent powder, and wasn't aware of the process of shaping a snowball. Dad identified my noob-like behavior, and came over to teach. He said, "Son, when the other kids come out, you're going to need to know this."
So he stooped down, and simply scooped snow with either hand and formed a snowball. I watched what he did, but still didn't get why I'd need this newfound knowledge for the other kids. He answered this one too, when he threw the ball towards a bucket. Now, it's important to note, that my father, though older and more experienced in the ways of life, was not particularly coordinated, and thus sent the snowball into one of my mother's roses. "Don't tell your mother," he told me soon thereafter, and went inside.
So far my dream about the upcoming morning had been swell, everything a little boy could really ask for in a dream, but then dreamland threw me quite the curve (snow)ball. I assume the following sequence had to take the concept of relativity into account, and you'll see why.
Instead of scooping the snow altogether on the ground, I grabbed a fistful of snow in each hand, intending to form them together soon thereafter. But the my perspective shifted from seeing through my own eyes, down to an unseen third party, which observed the following scene.
Right fist full of snow: Hey, lefty! Lookin' a little pale ova theah! Whatchu doin', eh? You pansy, you.
Left fist: Oy! Why you breakin my balls ova theah?! Ah didn't do nothin' to you!
Right: Yeah? well you da on'y otha fistful o snow 'round heah. Who else I gonna yell at?
Left: Bro, I just settled on dis patch o' ground heah, you know, just a few houahs ago... and you know, dis fuckin kid comes along an' scoops da two o' us up!
Right: Ah, yeah man, I heah dat- oh, bro, whuss happening? Why you gettin' closa ta me?!
Left: AAAAAAAHHHH
I guess I just put them together into a snowball.
Right: Goddammit, now you me, an' I'm you.
Left: Yeah du'e, I'm just talkin' ta myself now.
The newfound snowball thought to himself just how eventful his morning had been. I bet snow up in da mountains don't get harrassed an' shit, he thought to himself. Uh oh, whuss goin' on? Why am I flyin'?! I hate flyin'!
And these were the last thought the poor snowball conceived before smashing into little Peter's cold, red nose. Kid went home crying because my first snowball turned out to be one deadly capacity. Problem was, Peter was the first kid out after me that morning. His mother gave me a nasty look and took her son inside. Alone again, I felt bad about crushing Peter's face so suddenly and unthinkingly.
As I began to head inside, the world around me foggily evaporated, and I groggily opened my eyes. I had a strange feeling, I was warm, but felt as if I'd done something wrong. Then I looked outside, and it was morning, snow covered everything just like in my dream, only there were many other kids running around screaming and laughing. I saw Peter building a snow man in front of my house. He was smiling with his pretty mother helping him put the head on top. This must have been his first snowman. And then remembered the dream I'd just had. What a peculiar personality my snowball had, I thought. At that, I jumped out of bed and into my combat gear.
Posts
