The kids were disappointed to not have a snow day yesterday. I was too, but we quickly got over it as one by one we made our ways out the door. First Dad and Elianna, then Ethan, then me with the younger ones. I still make our oldest son breakfast most mornings. He’s the main one who ever seems hungry enough for food then.

My daughter is usually in the kitchen before me and makes up her own. I’ve heard stories about how much teenagers eat. It’s one of those mysteries about the world I don’t understand. To me, stomachs are only so big and only meant to hold so much. I really don’t question it. I just keep making eggs, toast, and oatmeal on occasion.

“Mom? How come it’s been snowing all day and the snow outside still isn’t piling up?” I don’t know the answer to that one either. “That’s what happens when there’s flurries”, was the best I could do, unaware of my grammar. How softly they dance, this way and that, with no other purpose but to descend from midair and bring joy.

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