Sunday, December 2, 2007

S'no Fun

The Girl and a friend begged to be allowed to do this a couple of years ago
(Seriously, please don't call Child Protective!)

Every year, when we finally get a good snow, The Girl is the first (enthusiastically joined by my husband) to say, “Let’s go play outside!!!!” While I love the look of snow and taking photos of snow fights and of our snowmen, I just don’t care to put snow pants on and actually roll in it. I’m pretty sure my brothers ruined the love of snow-play for me.

I am number seven of nine kids. Four boys preceded me, all within the span of seven years. As one can imagine, I’ve had my share of noogies at the hands of my brothers. I know what it’s like to have a boy sitting on my stomach, knees planted on my shoulders as he hangs a loogie (yes, it's actually in the dictionary!) over my face. And of course, before remote controls, I was the brother-appointed “channel changer,” for at least one tyrant. Unfortunately, I don’t remember fond memories of having brothers, least of all where snow is concerned.

I remember one snow moment in particular. We were all outside, playing “Tackle the Bum,” which involved a football being tossed up. Whoever caught the ball then rushed to a designated goal, but not without the rest of the players doing their best to tackle him/her before he/she could get there. It's a violent game, as I recall; perfect for children full of suppressed anger. I don’t know why I was playing; I’m sure I hated this game, given that I was younger, weaker, and most likely to be pummeled. Maybe I liked snow at one point? What happened next offers a potential clue to my snow aversion.

I have a distinct lightening-flash of a memory of waking up (alone) in the front yard, flat on my snow-suited back. That’s all I recall; waking up, seeing the sky, and wondering why I was alone.

I like to think that my brothers had rushed into the house to get help, call an ambulance, or at least get an icepack, but if that was so, why wasn’t anyone left behind to tend to me? I had obviously passed out; surely they wouldn’t have just left me there!? Why is this snapshot of a memory stuck in my mind? When I ask my brothers today, they just chuckle and claim ignorance (which is easier for some than others, LOL). Of course, in the well of torturous behaviors that they committed, this one would have been only a drop. I think it more likely that I, as “the bum,” had been tackled and left for dead. I like to think there would have been hell to pay for letting me get hurt like that; maybe each one was afraid of being blamed and rushed off to find a hiding place? Regardless, I suspect this is one reason that snow and I are not best friends. Thankfully, The Girl and snow are BFFs forever (especially if my husband has anything to say about it!)

P.S. Reasons I love Mr. 4444 (I've decided to start a list):

1) He is an amazing dad to our kids. Simply amazing.

2) He has never, ever pushed me in the snow or rubbed my face in it.

3) He taught me how to downhill ski on our first date (gently, patiently, lovingly).

4) He has never, ever given me a noogie or hung a loogie over me.

I have reciprocated by never tickling his feet. (Well, almost never.)


  1. As your sister, I must comment. LOVED the commentary - what a great flashback! But you should consider this... If you WERE left for dead, I am not sure if any passerby's would have stopped to help you. Here's the reason: I recall playing a cruel game as a child in the front of that very same house. Our sister Judy would pretend to beat me up. I would lay in the street "dying" and she would be "kicking" me with the finesse of a pro wrestler. Then, when an innocent, kind person stopped their car to help, we would both take off running around the block. I have no idea why we were so cruel. Perhaps the aftermath of that was like the boy who cried wolf... maybe a neighbor or two saw you get clobbered, but didn't bother to help based on our horrible games of the past. Sorry about that. : ) Coincidentally, I was playing in the snow yesterday and also thought about something from our past... I grabbed my son Logan, threw him down into the snow, and just about gave him the infamous "FACE WASH!!!". Then, I had a flashback to my past, realized how much I hated that being done to me, and suppressed my desires to seek revenge via my son. I set him free. I am sure he will some how learn that torture all on his own, and will inflict it upon his brother in the near future. Such a viscious cirle of sibling "love". : )

  2. It is funny how, as children, we talk ourselves into place we don't want to be.
    Such as, say, careening down an embankment on a crazy carpet, just so no one calls you chicken.

    And I'm glad the Mr. has never given you a snow facewash :)

  3. It was your idea "ME" :o)

    Your loving other sister

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