When pondering the season of Winter,
We may smile with thoughts serene
Of gossamer snow that quietly falls,
Of hopeful nativity scenes.
We envision warm fires and Christmas trees
With presents underneath.
But don’t let his enchantment fool you--
Old Man Winter is a thief!
I discovered this as a mom, you see,
When I began an accumulation
Of boots and gloves and scarves and hats--
Old Winter’s infatuation.
He came to my home, flexing sticky fingers,
And quiet as can be,
Began to steal my children’s boots
While chortling with glee.
Then he searched for the winter clothes
I had carefully put away
And had a grand time hiding gloves
And earmuffs all the day.
He knotted carves and shrunk snow pants
That were bought a size too big.
He put some hats in the Easter box
As he danced a little jig.
And, when his havoc had been wreaked
Like litter in a storm,
He tip-toed through the rest of the house--
He had more tasks to perform.
He dried up every lip balm tube
And emptied all the tissues.
He sniggled at thoughts of our chaffing lips
And our sneezing and runny nose issues.
Then off to the garage he sneakily scampered
To hide the sleds and break
The snow blower and abscond with shovels--
To him ‘twas a piece of cake!
And if this wasn’t bad enough,
I admit with a little chagrin,
Winter spied a school backpack
And daintily jumped right in.
And off to school Old Winter went
To practice the techniques he’d learned
On all the unsuspecting kids
As soon as their backs were turned.
Oh, what a glorious time he had
Mixing the potpourri of boots.
He snatched some coats and stuffed some gloves
In the legs of the hanging snowsuits.
As he stood back to inspect his work,
Old Man Winter was quite content
That he’d caused enough chaos at home and school,
So outside to work he went.
As Winter began breathing ice and snow,
My kids shouted, “Winter’s here!”
The search began for the sleds and scarves
And all other winter gear.
As the quest revealed all the missing things
My kids began to complain.
“Winter,” I shouted, “this year I’m determined
To beat you at your own game!
“Here’s the deal,” I said to my half-dressed kids.
“Old Man Winter’s too hard to catch.
So we’ll start a new fashion, grab mittens and boots
And I don’t even care if they match!
“Hah!” I bellowed, triumphant at last
As my kids paired up blues and pinks.
“I don’t care if we look like some clowns from a circus;
I don’t care what the neighbor thinks!”
But as my kids began donning their clothes
I beheld a humbling sight--
The mittens and boots Old Man Winter has thieved
Were only the one’s for the right.
“We only have lefts,” my kids said with a pout.
“And our coats are all girls’,” said my son.
Alas, Old Man Winter, you’ve done it again.
I admit it, oh woe, you have won.
I cleared all the snow with the one shovel left
And slowly backed out the Lexus,
But on the way to the store I did have the last laugh
Because next year we’re moving to Texas!
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