Today’s prompt is snowman, and it’s rather timely since we’ve been stuck indoors all day here while it’s snowing outside. Snow itself wouldn’t be a huge problem, but before it started snowing, a fresh layer of ice and sleet fell on the streets making the roads rather treacherous. Unfortunately, there’s not enough snow yet to build a proper snowman, so I’ve had to doodlewash a little one instead. When I was a kid, building a snowman was one of the coolest things to do on a snowy day. Sure, missing a day of school was pretty cool too, but building a snowman was the real treat. This was, of course, assuming enough snow fell and it was of just the right consistency to make the three giant snowballs required. If everything worked perfectly, soon a happy little snowman was sitting in the front yard, ready to impress the neighbors.
The thrill of building a snowman was intense and seeing your new friend outside each day was a joy. That was, until that day the sun started to shine a bit too much and temperatures warmed up. The first time my snowman began to melt, I’m not sure I was properly warned by my parents. I remember running outside to have a chat with Snowball, as that’s what I’d named him, only to find him looking rather sickly. The coal briquettes that formed his eyes and mouth had sunken in while his carrot nose laid unceremoniously on the ground in front of him. He’d also lost a bit of weight and his skin was dripping off of him. In a word, it was terrifying. I tried to jam his nose back into place, but in my frantic rush to save him, I shoved it through his head and out the other side, causing his face to collapse entirely. Next, I did what any sensible child would do at a moment like that, and ran inside screaming.
We never actually had a top hat to place upon his head as the kids in the song had done, so I assumed this was why he never sprang magically to life. I asked my parents where one might find such a top hat to properly complete my snowman, but they just did that thing parents do where they look knowingly at each other as if harboring a secret while doing nothing at all. It was always suspicious. But I truly wanted my future snowmen to come to life more than anything as I thought it would be the solution to my problem. At least Frosty had the good sense to say goodbye before melting into a twisted scary mess, saving his new friends from the shock of his tragically altered state. But I soon learned that the real magic was simply in the making and whatever time I had with my new friend was a moment to remember. Looking back now, there’s really nothing I experienced during those cold winter months that gave me quite the same incredible thrill as those enchanting times I spent carefully building a snowman.