Growing up in Florida, I had a certain idea of what winter must be like. There would be sleigh bells and ear muffs and a magical landscape of glittery snow falling to the ground.
The reality is not quite as idyllic, in that the sleigh bells are pretty much nonexistent, ear muffs are pretty much nonexistent, and the magical landscape of glittery snow falling to the ground quickly deteriorates into a dismal, brown slush. Oh, and it tends to get very, very cold. It never looked that cold on TV.
Yesterday after work/school, we drove around Fargo and noticed a plethora of brownish-white snowpeople dotting the lawns of fraternities, apartment complexes, and storefronts alike. There was a behemoth snowperson and a silly snowperson and a laying down snowperson.
“Erma!” I said, except that I used her actual name and not Erma, “We should build a snowman tonight!”
“YEAH!” Erma said, and the excitement was on, full blast.
Have I ever made a snowman before? No, I have not. But how hard could it be?
Here are some questions for the snowbuilders out there among you:
- How do you get the snow to stick together into one cohesive ball?
- How do you get the ball to become big enough to be life-sized?
- How do you get the hat to stay on?
- How do you shape your snowman to look like a human-esque figure and not like a tree with eyes?
Snowperson-building kits. This is an untapped market.
Oh, wait. Tapped.
By the way, building a snowman almost killed me. I used a shovel to drag snow over to the snowman area. Does that count as exercise? I’ll consult Tony Gazelle to see if it counts. …My heart hurts.