Wouldn’t it be nice to be a kid again for just one day? I think about that and then wonder what is keeping me from doing just that. Is it because I know yellow snow isn’t really a lemon flavored snow cone when I put it in the palm of my mitten to eat? Maybe that is some of it but when I watch my kids play outside in the snow I wish I could be that carefree.
They stand on the deck all bundled up in their winter gear without a care in the world. They run their hand along the railing and watch the snow float to the ground. Josh decides to cut a pie out of the crunchy snow on the ground but Abby has something else in mind. Her attention has been diverted to a dripping icicle. She positions herself perfectly beneath it and catches drip after drip on her tongue. Then she’s off to pile snow for a fort.
Later Josh returns to the deck and his eye catches the same thing as Abby’s. The beautiful icicle calls to him too and he finds just the right spot to take advantage of this freshwater source as it drips onto his tongue. Amazing. Then the icicle becomes something else and I get nervous as I know he is about to attempt to break it off. I think, "What if it falls and pokes his eye out or lands on his head?’ I try to remember ever seeing a headline about such a thing and remain seated, tensely waiting for the moment.
The icicle breaks off easily and before I know what I’m doing I meet him at the door. "Let’s put that in the freezer," I say. He replies, "I was just going to say the same thing mom!" So we head into the kitchen and carefully place the icicle in the freezer. He heads back outside and it doesn’t matter that the temperature is below zero and his fingers and toes are frozen.
The icicles that remain become popscicles and swords for the two of them. Then they are decorations for their snow fort, markings on a trail and pretend soldiers These icicles provide endless hours of entertainment for these kids and I start to see them in a different light.
When did I start viewing icicles as a bad thing? "They mean heat escaping from the roof, ice dams, ice on my deck, ice underneath my deck, a big mess." I ponder this question as I sip on my deliciously chilled drink with icicles bobbing up and down as I laugh about the little kid left inside of me and hope Josh won’t be too mad that I used his icicle for my drink. After all, there will be more where that came from and I’ll help him collect as many as he wants. And who knows, maybe this summer I’ll offer you a cold glass of lemonade and you too will share the magic of an icicle in your drink.