Celebratory Snowballs

What could be better on a 98-degree August summer day than a snowball. I just “happened” to have two stored away in my freezer I’d collected last March, back when the snow banks were still thigh-high. It’s been our tradition ever since moving back to a climate that has real winter, to pack away snowballs in anticipation of the weather forecaster announcing, “Today is the hottest day of the summer…”. That is exactly what was predicted for yesterday – 100-degrees (f), with a heat-index of 105. Perfect snowball weather!

Technically, when Sarah and Daniel removed them from the Zip-loc bag, they were no longer snowballs. They’d turned into iceballs. When Daniel wound up, his arm held high intending to pelt Sarah with the snowball, as he’d done just a few months earlier, Sarah and I threw our arms in front of our faces, pleading, “No, don’t throw it!”, rushing to disarm him of the deadly weapon. A few tears and explanations later, he agreed he would only “roll” it around in the grass.

Soon bored, muttering under his breath about not being able to “use a snowball like I should be able to use it – throwing it at Sarah”, he went for the next best option – holding it over his head, enjoying the icy drops landing on his head and running down his face. When it was reduced by half, he announced he was taking it with him into the swimming pool to “conduct my own experiment on how fast this will melt”. It didn’t take long in 90-degree water, much to his disappointment. “Next year, Mom, you have to build a bigger snowball for me”, he sighed.

As much as they love small, fun traditions like this, we all agreed the one who enjoyed it the most was Beau, our standard poodle.

He grabbed Sarah’s “snowball” out of her hand, running “zoomies” through the lawn as only a standard poodle can do – tail wagging, head held high, as if it were still the middle of winter and not nearly 100-degrees.

Next year, I’ll have to remember to pack away THREE snowballs in the freezer – not just two.

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