Day 2 of our Christmas countdown has me thinking about the weather. In south Louisiana, the chances of having a white Christmas are about the same as there being a blizzard in Hell, but it has happened. Once in my memory.
We weren’t expecting it. Of course, it isn’t like snow in this area is something we consciously think about. Christmas Eve, I picked up my godson to sleep at the house. It was bitterly cold, I remember that much. He was spending the night and the next day his mom and older brother would join us for a small Christmas dinner.
We were at the house watching A Christmas Story when my sister called in hysterics. It seems that her bathroom flooded and burnt out their heater. Or something like that. Of course, that meant she had to sleep at the house as well. Did I forget to mention my parran (now that I’ve taught y’all what parran means, I can use it instead of “godfather”) was there with his son? We have a 3 bedroom house and my brother lived with us at the time. It was a very tight fit that night, but it helped make Christmas seem more exciting.
Then we woke up on Christmas morning to see…snow? Was it really snow? Like children, every adult in the house (and the kids, of course), pulled on their warmest clothes and raced outside. It was beautiful! Big, fat snowflakes falling all over our yard. We played and played for hours, not caring that we couldn’t feel our fingers or toes anymore. We had snowball fights, finally having a chance to vent our youthful frustrations on our poor mother. My nephews were like little assassins, trying to take me and my sister out. It was the most fun I can remember having on Christmas day.
You see, I’d only seen snow once before. I was 12 and it was February. My brother and I played for hours. We had snowmen all over the yard like little soldiers (we didn’t so much snow we could make huge snowmen). We made snow angels, had snowball fights (of course), and generally prayed for the snow to remain. It didn’t, of course, but those days live in my memory.
But it was that one year we had snow on Christmas that I wish we could repeat. I’m not saying I’d love to live in snow year round, but as a special little treat, it can’t be beat. Look at me throwing out the rhymes! I feel positively inspired! LOL I know we won’t be having a white Christmas this year, but I can at least pull those memories from my cluttered brain and pretend.
For those of you who live in warmer climates, do you become a kid again when it snows? How about our more cold weather friends? Do you resent the snow, or do you still enjoy it?