Brr Brr

WHITE STUFF

 

I throw my warm robe on the bed, then my flannel pajamas and get a chill. Quickly I grab my wool ski pants, even though I am too young to ski, my turtle neck sweater and run the length of our upstairs hallway singing, 'Mama, Mama, it's snowing. The cold wind is blowing! Can I stay home from school?'

 

She's still in bed with Papa and hollers at me. 'Go back to bed, dumb kupf. I do a little dance of happiness in the kitchen and set the table for them. All I ever see them eat is scrambled eggs or a package of frozen waffles, butter,  black coffee, canned blueberries, warmed a bit. I put their coffee mugs on the table next to their paper napkins, plus a small and faded plastic flower arrangement from the hall table put it in the center of the table. I can't help smiling at how nice I fixed up for them.

 

My excitement sends me running up the steps, push their door open all the way and I run in, jump on top of Daddy, who happens to be playing a game on top of Mama. 'Get out of here. Get dressed, Go to school!' she yells. I yell back, 'You told me schools are closed! Did you lie, Mama? That would not have been nice.' She laughs at me and gives me orders.' 'Put on warm clothes, wear your new red boots, red mittens and the red muffler I spent so much time knitting for you. Don't forget your woolen hat with the earmuffs.'

 

Together we have breakfast. My Pop makes a change and wants bacon and eggs to warm the cockles of his heart.  I ask him what are cockles and am told to get the dictionary. I read it to him and want to vomit. 'Cockles are shells, Pop, and their sharp, wrinkle up. Why do you want them near your heart? They would hurt you.' 'Forget it Judy. Let me eat my eggs before they get cold.' With that command, I am free and run out of the house, almost fall down the slippery steps

 

I'm not the first kid outside by any means, but am the smallest, youngest, so far. In a second I am pounded with soft snowballs, don't have a minute to try to fight back. 'Millie, Harvey, Julia, Goofy, come out want to make a snowman.' I am ignored. My wool pants are already wet and heavy, one red mitten must be under the snow. Goofy holds up my mitten but won't give it to me.

 

We start to build a fort but need more people, more snow. 'Millie wants to make a snowman roo. So does Harvey. I don't want to make another snowman, pretend I'm crying and want a turn. 'Let's make a snow girl.'All of a sudden everybody likes me. They all like my idea. Harvey annnounces  I will have to be the girl. He starts rolling a little ball of snow until it gets so big he can't roll it even one more time. Millie rolls a ball for the girl's head and Goofy sticks it on top. I stand there doing nothing but watching. Harvey grabs me, pulls off my hat and puts it on the snow head. Then he pulls my red muffler off and my mittens, dresses the snow girl like me. I'm cold, wet, frightened. They pat me down with globs of snow, even on my face. I try to run in the house but Goofy won't let me. He rings our doorbell and my parents come out, searching for me.

 

Mama sees me first, screams bloody murder, tries to chase my friends away. Pop is outside without a jacket, grabs Millie and smears her face in the cold snow. Together my Mama, Pop and I gather my sopping clothes. My Pop lifts me, cuddles me, and gets me inside.

 

I am stripped naked and covered with warm, cozy blankets. Mama has put all of my wet things in the basement to dry near the furnace. Pop sits alone in the kitchen calling parent after parent. The next morning Millie brings me my lost red mitten. She gets the school bus as it comes up our street.

 

I get to stay home and wait for the snow to melt.