Sunday, December 8, 2013

Games in the Snow

This weekend, my boys played out in the snow.  Outside, it was 14 degrees with a thick layer of ice covering our entire yard.  On top of the ice was a thin layer of snow.

The boys bundled up in their snow pants, jackets, hats and gloves.  Then, they carefully tiptoed onto the ice on our back porch.  Once off the back porch, they explored every inch of the back yard.  They poked at icicles, scooped snow, and pounded on the layers of ice entombing everything in the backyard. 

After a while, I decided to join them and teach my youngest how to ski.  Son #1 has been skiing numerous times but hopped into my ski boots first.  He scooted around the yard joyfully.  Sometimes, he would get stuck and call for help.  Once he was freed, Son #1 would glide across the ice and snow again.

Son #2 watched my eldest son ski eagerly awaiting his turn.  Finally, Son #1's turn on the skis was up.  Son #2 toddled to my empty ski boots and lifted his foot with anticipation.  I removed his shoes and popped him into my boots.  Then, Son #2 began to glide across our yard with help from behind.  Son #2 giggled with glee as the icy world whizzed by underneath my skis.  All too soon, his turn was done.  Son #2 was sad but his cheeks were rosy with cold.  Quickly I gathered both boys into the house to warm them up with hot chocolate.


The next day was just as cold and icy.  Son #1 dressed in his snow clothes quickly and rushed out the back door.  He could not wait to play in the ice and snow again.  Son #1 immediately began to break away large chunks of ice.  Soon, he had a good sized collection of large ice fragments in a pile on the ground.  I peeked from between the blinds and wondered what my eldest son had in store for the icy, misshapen blocks. 

Soon, Son #1 knelt on the ground and began to race these pieces of ice across the ground.  He made little engine noises for each chunk as they skidded around in intricate patterns.  A very complex racing game emerged from his collection of ice.  There were good icy guys and bad icy guys.  Each played a role in his little drama. 

I chuckled to myself.  Son #1's game reminds me of a game my dad used to play when he was a little boy.  Apparently, my dad acted out World War II with sticks in his backyard. 

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