|I am...the black kitten.|
|The tiny snow-minions represent the responsibilities|
that are ganging up on me.
So I acted on impulse. Tromping through the snow on my way to class but not getting to play in it has made me ancy, so how could I not have run outside in jeans, a parka, and rainboots at midnight? And how could I not have convinced my best friend that he didn't want to go to bed, but that he wanted to join me instead?
I have learned that:
It's important to climb the really tall snowbanks and slide down their backs.
It's important to run through the snow and watch it puff like smoke around your ankles.
It's important to push your best friend in the snow and drag him down with you when he tries to return the favor.
It's important to keep on playing after your legs have gone numb. This is when you'll have the most fun.
It's important to fall backwards into the snow without being afraid that you'll break your back. You won't. I promise.
It's important to make snow angels and then destroy them while trying to stand up again.
Sometimes, it's important to act like you're five again.
Was it a great decision to run around in the dark and freeze myself a pair of thigh-cicles? Probably not. But I'm sick of being practical and I'm sick of walking past pristine blankets of snow and not leaving my footprints behind.
Ask me to play in the snow. I'll leave my books in a second. Seriously.