Regression

when it snows here we all forget how old we are.
actually the truth is that we remember how old we are and we scream in terror at the thought of being so old and we run outside and race away from our twenties and back to our toddler years and we build snow men and snow forts.
we put on our mittens before our jackets so that our sleeves are on the outside of our mittens and no snow or cold gets it.
we ask our friends to zip our zippers so we dont have to take off our mittens.
we pull our socks out of our boots, over our jeans. we let our hair fall into our eyes. we let our cheeks turn red.

everyone is cuter in the snow... i think.
red cheeks, frizzy hair, big smiles, sniffling noses, bright colored hats.

im watching them from my window.


on the last snow day i built a chair. molly, jordan, molly and i built a chair.
in the back of my mind i was eight years old and grinning. in the front of my mind i was trying to build the best most chair like chair out snow.
it became an assignment.
a few yards away some kids were building a snow fort. molding snow bricks inside a plastic bin. we are civilized, we have taken an architecture corse, we know about the indiginus peoples of the south pole, we know they built igloos with snow bricks.
look at our technology. this is how we have fun in the snow.

and it is fun.
but... in a differnt sort of way.