Christmas Countdown and Writing Workshop: Frosty the Snowman

I wasn’t going to write for the Workshop this week. I only started it recently and thought the prompt of ‘Get Lyrical’ was a bit too wide. If I start thinking about songs I end up playing a sort of word-association game in my head where one song leads to another song, which leads to a third and before you know it, I’m paralysed by an utter inability to fully commit to one idea. But then came the snow.

Last year, the Pocket Dictator wasn’t really sure about snow. It fell overnight, giving the Houseguest a snow day, since the British Transport System has yet to be adequately prepared for such weather. He was more than happy to bundle up and get out in the garden to introduce his niece to the delights of snowcraft. But every time he tried to build a snowman, she thought he was building a tower of snowballs and knocked them to the floor!

 We’ve had quite a bit of snow in the last couple of days, certainly more than last year and yesterday after nursery closed early, DH and I again bundled up the Pocket Dictator and went into the garden to make a snowman. This time, there was a lengthy discussion about which hat the snowman should wear. We were instructed that he would need a carrot for his nose (fortunate, then, that I hadn’t put them all in the stew) and sticks for his arms. It turns out that the snowball tower element was the easiest part of the whole exercise this year. The DH had to forage around in the snow for suitable things to make buttons (bark chippings from under the slide) and, having returned with two, was sent back because a “snowman needs three, Daddy!” There were tears when we couldn’t find coal for his eyes, which makes me wonder what my child is learning at her school, but Daddy once again came to the rescue with a pair of tealights from the shed. And with the addition of hat, scarf and carefully co-ordinated gloves, our First Family Snowman was built.

When I asked our benevolent Dictator what the Snowman’s name was she looked at me with pity, and said “It’s Frosty, Mamma.” How was I to know that all snowmen were called Frosty? If you ask her what her favourite dog is called (or Dog-Du-Jour, as they are known in this house, since the favourite changes on a frequent basis) she usually says “Woof!” Hopefully next year she’ll be big enough to make the snowman on her own, assuming there is snow of course, and I can watch from the warmth and safety of the house. I don’t mind these family activities, but it’s good for your sense of self-worth to be looked down on by a two-year-old.

Did I mention that Frosty is a girl? No, I didn’t know either.

I should also mention that, as it is December 2nd, this post was also written as part of Cafebebe’s Christmas Countdown. Take a look at her blog to see other entries.