Stray Snowballs

Have you ever been hit in the face with a snowball? As I’ve mentioned before, I have two younger, mischievous brothers. Who both happen to play baseball. You can make a guess where I’m going with this.

Last night, frozen water in the form of flakes fell about 10 inches here in good old Nebraska. We were snowed in.

But in my household, there’s never a boring minute. So many good memories. There was the time we crashed an expensive model airplane into a tree about four and a half seconds after my dad spent two hours assembling the damn thing. How about the time my mom burnt zucchini on the stove, nearly causing the smoke detectors to go off. Do any of you have any idea how long it takes the get the smell of burnt zucchini out of your nose? Weeks, people, weeks. Or there’s always the time a bat flew through an open window. My dad put on three pairs of sweatpants, thick wool socks, two shirts, a winter jacket, and grabbed his tennis racket. That poor thing got swatted right back out the window while my father shrieked the whole time. Yes, I use the word shriek because that’s what it was. High pitched too.

I live one heck of a life, I tell you what. As I was saying, there is never a dull moment around this place. And last night, we were not about to let a little snow cause a case of boredom. My boyfriend, brothers, and I spent a majority of the night outside, braving the bitter cold. I watched as the boys made this giant ball. I’d call it a snowball, but there was just as much torn up grass and dirt as there was snow mixed into that thing. And when I say giant, I mean it. Towards the end of the process, they could barely roll it anymore. It was at least six feet tall. So thanks to those geniuses, there is currently a huge, frozen ball sitting next to our road. Probably won’t melt until April.

Besides the colossal ball of whatever-you-want-to-call-it, we also had snowball wars. I say war because that’s what it was. Every man for himself, and it was vicious. No mercy. We all took a couple, and had a couple, of killer shots.

Where I was going with this is, being hit in the face with frozen water and ice compacted into a ball isn’t the best feeling in the world. But every once in a while, you have to take a snowball to the face. It’s part of the game. It’s bound to happen eventually, no matter how careful you are. There’s always someone waiting for you to turn your back, waiting for the right opportunity to nail you. Here’s the good news. It makes you tough. The more times you are clobbered in the face, the more resistant you become. Before you know it, you’ll barely blink when one is thrown your way. No longer will you be stunned with frozen eyeballs. You’ll be able to toss one back in their direction faster than a hot knife cutting through butter. You’ll be unstoppable.

Needless to say, a stray snowball always seems to find a way into your life. And it’s your job to do your best, get up and return the favor. And if it hurts, just remember to put a little ice on it. You’ll be fine.

-As always, Maddie

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