There's No Man Like a Snowman!

My daughter built her first snowman yesterday. It was a dapper young gent, complete with scarf and pinecone eyes, a cute little baby-cut carrot nose, and rock-hard abs (she insisted).

I built a snowgal with big boobs, but she turned out to be a little too frigid for me.

It's not every day you get to build a snowman. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I’ve built one. And I’m not talking about one of those pipsqueak snowmen you build on the hood of your car. I’m talking about a World Federation Wrestler-size Snowman—a snowman so big it would laugh in the face of a sunny day, if it could laugh.

When I was younger, my brother and I made a snowman that was so big, a newspaper reporter stopped at our house to take a picture of it. I still have that picture. That snowman stayed in our front yard for weeks. It was too stubborn to melt. I would hate to meet a snowman like that today in some dark alley. I bet it would eat icicles for breakfast and little boys for lunch.

Yes, when God gives you enough snow to build a snowman (or gal), it's just not right to go into work and NOT take advantage of the opportunity. So, early Friday morning, I declared a Snow Day by Executive Decision, and stayed home. With all the reports out there about global warming and the changing of our environment, it was the only decent thing to do.

Speaking of, I read a news report the other day about a certain species of bird that no longer inhabits the southern regions of our country because of “environmental changes” — which in plain English means it's just too darn hot for them. And if it’s too darn hot for those birds, you KNOW one of these days it's going to be too darn hot for snowmen.

And if it’s too hot for snowmen, then it’s too hot for snow angels, snow forts, snowball fights, snow ice cream and yellow snow (which I don’t think anybody will miss). Can you imagine a world without snow angels and snow ice cream? My very first “brain freeze” was due to a bowl of snow ice cream made by my grandmother. The ice cream was delicious. The pain was excruciating.

There are times during the winter months when we get what looks like snow, but it’s really just ice. You can’t make a snowball out of ice. With ice you get slush balls. Throwing a slush ball is like throwing a rock, and it really hurts to get hit by one. You might as well throw a rock and bypass getting cold hands. Snowballs, on the other hand, never really hurt when you get hit by one because they explode into a million snowflakes that drift away with the wind. Slush balls can leave scars.

Building a snowman can teach a person a lot about life. For instance, it’s easier to build a snowman’s body by rolling it downhill, unless you want him to stand at the top of the hill so everybody can see him. Lesson No. 1: If you don’t plan ahead, things can go downhill pretty quick.

Building a Monster Snowman requires heavy lifting. Heavy lifting requires teamwork. Teamwork requires a Team. If you don't have a Team, you might throw out your back. Lesson No. 2: Bend your knees when lifting heavy objects.

A snowman requires stick arms, a carrot nose, charcoal facial features, and a hat. A scarf and pipe would look good, but they’re optional. Lesson No. 3: There are rules for everything, such as “ask before borrowing your dad’s scarf and pipe.”

Snowmen melt. Lesson No. 4: Life is short.

Unfortunately, our children’s children may never learn the lessons my daughter and I have learned by building snowmen (and gals). They may never experience the thrill of creation at the cost of a few frostbitten toes and fingers. To them, snowmen will be creatures of a bygone era, only seen in photographs and artwork.

What a shame.