When we left the house on Saturday morning to run errands, Steve pointed out to Brigid the very light snow flurries that were falling. And Brigid, being the kid who has made us watch Rudolph and Frosty and Charlie Brown's Christmas up to (and including!) that very day, got all kinds of excited about the prospect of building a snowman. And we had to gently tell her that, yeah, it wasn't going to happen. With the very few flurries we were getting, she was pretty much totally out of luck on that one.
Then, on Sunday, it started snowing again. Real snow! With real flakes! That stuck to various surfaces on our back deck! For a good hour, at least!
(Insert sarcasm font, here, because, YES. I know this absolutely doesn't count as a snowfall. I did grow up in Indiana, after all. But we made a big deal out of it for Brigid's sake. And in my opinion? Any amount of snow is too much snow, ok?)
You guys. Brigid got to build her snowman after all.
(And try to catch snowflakes in her hand. And on her tongue.)
(OH! And to throw snowballs at Steve.)
All right. Brigid's had her snow day fun for the year. Winter is officially over now, right? And it will be 80+ tomorrow now, right? Or at least 70+? RIGHT?!?!?!