It Doesn’t Snow at Christmas & Other Lies

For weeks, the Monkey has been telling us that he can’t wait till Christmas for all the obvious reasons. Then he adds, “and then it will snow.”
We were then forced to have the conversation every parent of Southern children must have: It really doesn’t snow here at Christmas. Every movie made about a white Christmas was set north of the Mason Dixon line. Sorry, buddy. Don’t get your hopes up.
Then Christmas Day, about midafternoon, it started sleeting. Then it began to snow. Last night, thundersnow, which was a whole crazy scifi weirdness.
My son stood at the window and jumped up and down, “I knew Santa wouldn’t let me down! I knew it!”
This morning, he bolted out of bed and straight out into the snow in his pajamas. It didn’t take long to realize that was a bad idea. We got him dressed as properly as we could. And it’s been mistlesnow all day.
Merry Christmas, you crazy child!

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He made a snowman

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Playing in the snow with his best friend Sarge

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Snowball fight with Dad

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From the front porch

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Charlie, Jackson, Aunt Becky, Sarge & Lucy in the snow

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Our house in the snow. It's pretty. We had our fun. Now it's time to melt.

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