Snowy Day

Natalie's favorite movie is "Frosty the Snowman." We watched it just shy of five million times this Christmas. Seriously, it was a 24 hours a day, 7 days a week Frosty the Snowman marathon at our house. And when she wasn't watching it, she was acting it out. So, when it snowed last weekend she was absolutely ecstatic. Finally, we could build our own Frosty. Which we did. Sure, it was only 8 inches tall, but it was fully decorated with a pebble face and a leaf hat and twig arms. Then Natalie insisted that we hold hands and dance in a circle around it while singing the "Frosty the Snowman" song. She was positive that it wasn't a song, but a mystical chant that would magically bring our snowman to life in all it's Frosty glory. I didn't see the snow man move once, but she was convinced that the spell worked. We played outside until our fingers were numb and our noses were runny. Then Natalie started crying. She was upset because after we went into the house, it would warm up, our snowman would melt and Frosty would die (her words, not mine). It was more than her poor little heart could handle. Why am I telling you all this? Well, you need to know, just in case you ever find yourself rummaging through my freezer and come upon a plastic bag with a dirty little clump of ice and wonder to yourself why in the world I would preserve such a disgusting specimen of frozen H2O. I'm telling you so that you'll know that it isn't trash, or the strange remains of some long ago frozen leftovers, but Natty's frosty little friend that picked our freezer for his retirement villa. That's right, my friends, Frosty lives in my freezer, right next to the ice cube tray.