Snowpeople Gone Bad

A couple years ago, last time we had snow like this, I couldn't get the girls to help me build a snowman. It broke my heart a little bit, we'd built a few over the years, but you don't get that many snows deep enough that get melty enough on a weekend day to make it happen often.



One of my fondest memories living in my old neighborhood in Gardner was a day in 2007 when the whole neighborhood went berzerk building snowmen.

The next year, we built Crusty the Snowman.

Our snowmen haven't always been male, we made a snowwoman the year of the snowman festival in Gardner Manor.



Somewhere in between there, I raced to my Mom's house to build the Rocket Snowman after church one Sunday when the snow was melting fast. That was the first time I ran into real resistance from the girls. Something about hitting their teens made building a snowman with Dad seem dumb.

When I tried to get them to do one two years ago, Em said something to the effect that we could build a snowman anytime, though a review of my blog reveals that at best we had the chance every two years or so.

To my delight, today they didn't fight it. Mo didn't stay at it for very long, and I might have bribed her with junk food just a little bit, but that was a well-spent sleeve of chocolate donuts.



Em surprised me by actually get out and getting into it before me and Mo had gloves on. She made a tiny snowman on the porch and asked if that counted. Then she went and made a snowgirl with a bikini top while I was still trying to set up the tripod to shoot the video up top here.



I said we needed to make her a boyfriend, and she said, no, the girl doesn't have a boyfriend, she's on spring break and looking at most to hook up.



This is not the narrative you get when you build snowmen with little kids.

But okay, we made a beach bum to go with her, and then for good measure another girl. They're all getting drunk on cheap beer (really cheap bear actually).



We got in an argument over the headwear. I have the St. Patrick's hat, of course, but then I thought of a retired helmet I have (I cracked it in a bike accident and had to replace it). The helmet still had the mohawk, and Em didn't think it was funny to picture her Dad trying to pick up drunken snowbimbos on spring break in Alaska.



By the time I got home from handing the girls off to the artist formerly known as Frau Lobster, the beer had taken full effect and our snowpeeps were falling down drunk. Especially the dude, from the way he's tilting, he's not even going to remember meeting these two snowhotties.