HEY THERE!!!

� It's SNOWING outside! It's been snowing all day. Know what THAT means??? WE CAN GO OUT AND PLAY IN IT!!! Have the St. Bernard down the hill pull us along on our sleds, that kind of stuff.

� Now, understand that this is the first snow storm of the season. And it hasn't been all that cold. Like, probably the lakes, ponds, etc. aren't frozen. So we can't go skating. But we CAN go sledding and tobogganing.

� We're all ready now - bundled up like winterized Pillsbury dough boys, setting out to have fun. And then . . .

Mom: Hey! Kids! Wait a few minutes. Your father and I are going with you.

HUH??

They're going WITH us?

Sledding?

Come ON now.

What will the other

kids think?

Dad:(at the sight of our faces) Don't worry. �We'll have fun.

SURE we will. "We" as in

"they". Us kids are going

to be mortified if anyone

sees us. (not to mention that

no other self-respecting parent

would let their kids out in

that mess)

OH MY GOODNESS! THEY'RE SERIOUS!

Do we really HAVE to???

OK. Picture this. Two adults. Two children. One toboggan. One very LARGE hill. With a bottom. Yup, the street ends in a cross road at the bottom. Wanna know what's across the cross road??? You're gunna have to wait.

They load into the toboggan. Mrs. Murphy is first, of course, as the youngest and smallest. Right in the front, acting as a breakwind for her brother, who has his head down, burrowed into the back of her snow jacket. Fink. Chicken. Mrs. Murphy decides, as the wind picks up even before they take off, that probably aviator goggles would be appropriate.

Now, dad happens to have long legs. VERY long legs. Nice for propelling a toboggan on its start down the hill. You don't even need a motor or anything. Just ask Dad.

YEAH RIGHT Where's the Lone Ranger when you need him???

� Mrs. Murphy clamps her eyes as tightly shut as she can against the wind and snow and still see.

WHOOSH!

There goes Steven's house in

a blur . .�.

Bump, thump, a frantic yell from the back to lean towards the right. WHEW! Off the curb and back in the middle of the road.

OH MY GOD!!!

WHAT ARE THOSE TWO LIGHTS???

DITCH INTO THE SNOWBANK!

� The car passes us with an angry honk of the horn, and we delight when the car gets stuck 3/4 of the way up the hill. Mrs. Murphy and her brother, having more brains than God gave a duck, think that this adventure is over. After all, who wants to get creamed by a car when you're supposed to be out having fun?

THEIR PARENTS, THAT'S WHO

� Back on the toboggan. And they're off, down the hill at a breakneck speed.

And then Dad remembers he's not

on the huge hill at the

golfcourse.

He's headed for the crossroad.

� In the front, knowing what's coming, Mrs. Murphy starts to pray. "Dear God, please don't let Debby get my hula hoop. Give it to Biffy. And . . .

BANG! �BUMP! �SLAM!

And they're over the snow bank

into . . .

THE SWAMP.

� Now the KIDS know that no way is the water in the swamp frozen. And the skunk cabbage still stinks. But did dad have to dump us right into the middle of it?

� The kids had cocoa waiting for their parents when the two adults finally huffed and puffed their way up the hill. The kids had hitched a ride with the St. Bernard. When the parents suggested repeating this trip again, the kids voluntarily went to bed an hour early to get away from what they fervently hoped was not inherited insanity.

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