The Sprout must have read too many Christmas books about snowy winter days because she was insistent that we would have snow for Christmas. We didn't. She was sad. So we took her up the Mountain one Saturday to play in the snow.
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Apparently, her romanticized dream of snow did not include: a) cold and b) snow so deep you can barely walk in it.
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She was not a fan. She made a few snow angels, walked a few hundred yards and was done.
Two big thumbs down.
Maybe next year.
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