Liam cannot resist the fluffy whiteness of snow. He goes out onto the deck barefoot to scoop up a handful which he then eats with great gusto.
I pointed out to him that, given the number of bird tracks in the snow, he might be eating a bit of bird poop. He just laughs at me like I'm crazy.
I think I'll tell him the story about the time I got sent home from school in first grade for wearing a Snoopy patch on my jeans that said "Don't Eat Yellow Snow." My mom sewed on that patch over a hole in the knee of my jeans. Mrs. Humphrey, the first-grade teacher at Lincoln Elementary School in Pella, Iowa was not pleased with the patch and sent me home early to change my jeans to something less offensive.
I've always wondered if she was offended by the subtle implication of peed-upon snow, or was she just anti-Snoopy, or did she think the advice on my patch was somehow not worth sharing with others? A few weeks later I remember taking mercury from a broken thermometer to school for show-and-tell! I dropped it before my turn and it scattered into a brazillion tiny pieces. Those were the days...
I wish I still had that patch. I'd sew it onto Liam's jeans. Bet he wouldn't get sent home from school nowadays.
4 comments:
Great post!
I remember Christmas caroling when I was a boy growing up here in Idaho and I was eating snow all along the way. It was dark and one particular handful of snow had a distinct taste...I'm not sure, but I think it was yellow snow.
"Watch out where the huskies go. And don't you eat that yellow snow." - the late, great Frank Zappa.
Thanks for refreshing my memory (snow) bank.
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