During our lovely snow day on Monday, the kids decided to play Survivorman. After shovelling the drive, the walks and Winston's "hot spot", I began to move some snow in front of the slide so they could shoot down and across the yard. THEN we had the brilliant idea to build a snow fort. Remember those? We built up the walls with our little igloo ice block makers and then I began to shovel in more snow to build it up. In true survivor fashion, the kids tied together three huge branches with rope and made a tee pee frame which I covered with a tarp. They then set to work carving out chairs, freezers, and storage spaces (for their weapons and the food they stole out of the pantry) We set up their fire pit and covered the ground with pine needles. It looked so cool! They really did a great job.
Then the fun went flat. Do you know WHY those shows only star one person? My secret belief is that the premier-pilots for those shows began with more than one "survivor" but after the first ohhhhh ten minutes only one remained; the others were dead. At least that's where OUR "Survivorman" was heading.
Having been outside and shovelling since 5am, I felt less like surviving and more like sleeping like the dead. I announced snow had fluffed inside my boot and I had severe ankle ache; needing to go inside. I got three quarters of the way to the house before I heard:
"You ALWAYS get the big icicles. Gimme!"
"I can't help it you're short. No."
" I WANT THAT ICICLE!"
"Nope. I got it down. It's mine."
I kept moving. I ignored the scuffling sound but upon reaching the back door, I zoomed in the kitchen and dashed to the window to watch the carnage. Sure enough. They were battling with those things like they were light sabers. My fear was that they were licking them to points as quickly as possible and in my own mind I saw a stabbing in the near future and possibly having to visit a child in Juvie. They seal those records, right? The unthinkable happened. They whacked them so hard they broke. Did that stop the fight? Hell no, they went Mano a Mano. I tried not to laugh. I tried to do the right thing...go and stop them. But there were little angry arms and legs flying everywhere. It looked like a deranged snow blower. Instead of angels sculpted delicately on a soft blanket of snow, I got ferocious muddy gouges in the lawn. They went all the way down to the grass on that. I kept working. Doing what would fix the problem when it got TRULY out of hand. I heard it. The thump and the pause.....then the wail and the shhhh-shing.
"Shut up! Stop! Stop crying! You're not hurt! I didn't hit you that hard...SHUT UP! We're going to get in trouble." came the panicked whisper.
I opened the back door. "Hot cocoa?"
With a resounding "YEAAH!" they came scurrying in...one with a fat lip and the other with a small cut on the cheek.
They sat right next to each other. RIGHT NEXT TO EACH OTHER and began to laugh about sledding.
I walked out of the kitchen to the sound of "HEY! You've got more than me!"
I will survive.
