Something odd happened tonight. I had the sudden urge to go outside and play in the snow. Now, growing up, that would have been common place. I probably couldn't wait to run outside and jump in the fresh snow. Only after being bundled up by my mother of course. I don't remember too many specific memories in the snow besides being at my grandmothers or sledding in the backyard. But I know I enjoyed it back then. That is something I've lost with age. Maybe everyone does.
It most likely has to do with being an adult. I'm responsible for getting my car cleared off and making sure there is a walk way so I can take my dog out. Who seems to be hating the snow more and more in his old age as well.
When I came up the stairs to enter the apartment, I stopped when I first got in the door. Something wasn't right. Then it hit me. I'm not a kid anymore.
I remember the "procedure" for coming inside from being out in the snow. My mother would promptly stop me at the door. Send me back out onto the front porch where she would grab the broom. She would say "turn"! I would then slowly turn around in clockwise circles while she brushed all the snow off me. Or enough to at least let me in the house. Then I would take off my snowy clothes. That's when I'd start to feel my skin get all warm. Sometimes with pins and needles. So warm it almost hurt. Like a sun burn. I remember getting into sweats and sitting in front of the television to recover from those adventures in the snow. Those were good days.
I realized how funny I must have looked. when in my first 3 steps outside I totally slipped on the wet packy snow and fell onto my side. I didn't jump right up and dust myself off and look around to see if anyone had seen me. I genuinely laughed at myself laying there in the drive way on my back and then when sitting on my knees.
However, that fun didn't last when I realized I should probably brush off my car so that in the morning it won't take me an hour. It didn't however, stop me from wishing for a snow day tomorrow.
I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, my beard full of water droplets from the snow that had minutes before been there. I didn't notice my red cold cheeks until after. I noticed that I hadn't been out in the snow for a long time. Even if it was only for 20 minutes or so, and my hands hurt from not wearing gloves. It was something that I had lost. A little Peter Pan complex maybe? Have I forgotten how to have fun? Have I really gotten that old? It's the sad truth. But, yes. I have.
I guess you lose a little of your magic as time goes on. I'm not OK with that, so, I think I'm going to try and get some of it back.
It most likely has to do with being an adult. I'm responsible for getting my car cleared off and making sure there is a walk way so I can take my dog out. Who seems to be hating the snow more and more in his old age as well.
When I came up the stairs to enter the apartment, I stopped when I first got in the door. Something wasn't right. Then it hit me. I'm not a kid anymore.
I remember the "procedure" for coming inside from being out in the snow. My mother would promptly stop me at the door. Send me back out onto the front porch where she would grab the broom. She would say "turn"! I would then slowly turn around in clockwise circles while she brushed all the snow off me. Or enough to at least let me in the house. Then I would take off my snowy clothes. That's when I'd start to feel my skin get all warm. Sometimes with pins and needles. So warm it almost hurt. Like a sun burn. I remember getting into sweats and sitting in front of the television to recover from those adventures in the snow. Those were good days.
I realized how funny I must have looked. when in my first 3 steps outside I totally slipped on the wet packy snow and fell onto my side. I didn't jump right up and dust myself off and look around to see if anyone had seen me. I genuinely laughed at myself laying there in the drive way on my back and then when sitting on my knees.
However, that fun didn't last when I realized I should probably brush off my car so that in the morning it won't take me an hour. It didn't however, stop me from wishing for a snow day tomorrow.
I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, my beard full of water droplets from the snow that had minutes before been there. I didn't notice my red cold cheeks until after. I noticed that I hadn't been out in the snow for a long time. Even if it was only for 20 minutes or so, and my hands hurt from not wearing gloves. It was something that I had lost. A little Peter Pan complex maybe? Have I forgotten how to have fun? Have I really gotten that old? It's the sad truth. But, yes. I have.
I guess you lose a little of your magic as time goes on. I'm not OK with that, so, I think I'm going to try and get some of it back.
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