With the first sign of flurries came a shout-out-loud and a fist pump. We turned on the radio and the weatherman only predicted occasional snow showers, nothing that would stay around for long. That’s when Max’s excitement died a slow, agonizing death. But by the time we picked up Mini from Mother’s Day Out, there were actual snowflakes falling from the grey sky.
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!
He couldn’t wait to get home, as fast as our minivan would take us. An expression of disappointment melted upon his face when I said I had to stop for milk and bread. It’s snowing, after all; that’s where my minivan automatically goes. He was relieved to hear that it would be a quick stop at a gas station, then home at last.
The weatherman was right, it only lasted for a few minutes. But those snowflakes stuck to the ground and it was a glorious few minutes.