“Father, when’s it going to snow?”
Those were the days! The internet was in its infancy, and smart phones were still science fiction. Electronic gadgets were limited to radios, stereos and televisions. Best of all, when it came to entertainment, imagination ruled.
On a more personal level, James had been speaking for a few years, and Ian had just started. Further, James now displayed his most endearing and exasperating trait: a lack of patience along with bulldog tenacity.
“Father, I asked you a question. When will it snow?”
I shrugged. “The weatherman said we MIGHT get some, but forecasting snow is the hardest.” I scrutinized him. “Why? Are you bored inside and can’t go out ’cause it’s too cold?”
James stood quietly for a moment. “Yes.”
“How about a hike in the woods?”
“Now?”
“It’s the best time. No bugs, and all the snakes are hibernating. Sure, the creeks are frozen, but you’d be surprised at what we can see.”
“It’s too cold, and there’s no snow.”
“Do you want to stay in and watch a movie? Or should we make brownies and play checkers while we’re waiting for them to cool?”
“Brownies sound good.”
“All right, but they’re for the whole family. You get the checkers and I’ll get out the mixing bowls.”
Thirty minutes later, James pushed one of his men onto my back row. “King me.”
The scent of freshly baked chocolate filled the kitchen, and I placed the extra man on top of his as the oven timer went off. “Remember, they have to cool before we can eat any.”
I put the brownies on a cooling rack below the window, but when I looked up, large, white flakes fell on our backyard. I rejoined James at my side of the checkerboard. “Have you looked outside?”
William R. Bartlett lives in Belton with his family.