a writing exercise, and a dead snowman.

when the snow melted, so did petra's snow man. however, it melted slowly and everything stayed in place. 

A girl, about four, wiggled her foot into the hole of her boot. Her mother helped her maneuver her small fingers into the pink glove. "One finger in each hole, Petra." Her hood is slipped over her head, pushing her long curly hair forward, spilling out around her face. "Am I ready now?" she asks. Her mother adjusts the zipper up a little, and looks her over. "Yeup." She opens the door and the puff-coat figure walks out the into the back yard. The whole yard is covered in the nights snow, virgin of foot prints. A giant smile cracks onto Petra's face. She tromps through the snow and turns to see her path manifested in white. A laugh jumps out of her mouth and she is in it. She runs, throws snowballs, and makes a snack out of the freshest top snow. When she finally taps on the door her cheeks and nose are pink and her eyes are shining from the fresh chilled air. Her mother opens the door and grabs Petra under the arm, so she won't slip. Together they peel off the layers. In a matter of seconds Petra is down to her dry clothes, telling her mother about her snow day. "... and I tried to make a snow man, but he just felled down." "Oh, well maybe there wasn't enough snow" her mother replied, distracted as she moved the wet things in a pile and cleaned up the melted snow. "Oh. Well maybe I can try again later." "Sounds good honey." 


....


Later that afternoon she was ready to go back out. Back on went the coat, the gloves, and the smile. Back to making a snowman. Her smile turned down along with her eyebrows as she couldn't get the snowman to stand up properly. Her mother watched out the window. She hesitated a second. Then she ran back to her room, fished out her boots, her gloves. Rummaged through the coat closet to get her good coat. Up went the hood to cover the fine, straight hair. She stepped outside and smiled at Petra. "Here, let me help you." she said. She then bent down and started shaping a snowman on the ground, like a drawing, but mounded up. Petra caught the idea and took over the construction. Her mother started digging under the snow where she knew rocks would be. "We need four more rocks Mom." Petra said. "Okay hon." her mother replied "Here you go." Petra placed the rocks as her mother stepped inside. She came back out with a carrot in her hand. "A nose!" Petra smiled. Her mother shimmied it down in the snow. "There." she said "A snowman, Just a little different." She looked at Petra for approval. Petra grinned and giggled. It was small, and imperfect. But for now, it was enough.