Playing Snow

My snow deprived, native born, southern California, boys and their friend C, decided to play snow today. In their shorts and short sleeved shirts, they each grabbed a “snow dog,” beanies, gloves, and boots. The leaped on their snowmobiles (bikes) and rode around the neighborhood pretending to dodge snow drifts, avalanches, and large antler adorning animals. They talked of snowboarding and skiing as if they were sitting fireside, in a lodge, sipping hot chocolate.

They bitterly compared notes about how they have never seen the snow “for real” and have only seen pictures of the white loveliness on television, DVD’s, or in pictures. How underprivileged—sad. This is one of the disadvantages to living closer to the equator than our northern neighbors.

“I promise that I will take you to the snow this year” I say matter-of-fact. After all, it is only an hour and a half drive. They smile. I wonder how long it will take before we actually arrive, bundled and prepared for the chill, before they determine that shorts, t-shirts, and skateboards are much easier than down-filled jackets, boots, gloves, hats, scarves, sleds, and gallons of hot chocolate. To find out, we’ll have to wait until January.