On Sunday, we made our first (and hopefully only) attempt of the season to play in the snow. But before I tell you about that adventure—and the extensive logistics that went into it—I need to explain my complicated relationship with snow, which is not to be confused with my complicated relationship with literally everything else.
There are really two Americas: The America where kids wear snow pants, and the America where kids have no idea what snow pants are. If you’ve never heard of snow pants, congratulations on living in a reasonable climate. Never move. Snow pants are basically water-resistant overalls that let kids play in the snow for hours without coming inside. I was born in northeastern Iowa, which is definitely snow pants America. It’s the kind of place where you have to sink fence posts at least three feet into the ground so they can stand up to repeated yeti attacks. My extended family in Minnesota has it even rougher. Up there, if you get less than ten feet of snow overnig…
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