when did you officially start sucking? I mean really? At what stage in my life did I stop looking at you with fond wonderment and slight amazement and start looking at you like a blight on my life? When was it that you started making my bones ache and my skin crack?
I look back on our time together as a child and I think of all the good times we had. Remember that one time when you and I built that huge snow fort in front of the house? It had tunnels and small windows for whipping snow balls at the enemy. Man......we must've hung out in that thing for hours. It had to have been hours 'cause I remember digging out a 'whiz hole' so we could take a leak out the side without ever breaking cover. Nobody could find us in there....at least as long as they didn't track us back to that patch of yellow snow.
I remember snow days. No, not just snow days but "You can't go outside because your eyeballs will literally freeze in their sockets" kind of snow day. Those were the days that the car refused to start. I can remember my Dad sitting behind the frosty wheel of the old Buick silently cursing you under his breath....the car sputtering and coughing; refusing to turn over. I knew that if that old beast of a vehicle wouldn't come to life, then there was no chance I would be turned out into the cold to walk to school. Thank you for that.
I remember snowball fights, and snow angels and finding the biggest snow bank I could possibly find and flipping off it head first into piles of soft, cushiony snow. Growing up in the North, you really were a good friend. After all, we really did spend a lot of time together.
But as I grew older, something changed between you and I. While there were days that I enjoyed hanging out with you, I found that you started becoming more of an inconvenience and annoying more than anything else. Like a dinner guest that just hasn't quite taken the hint that it's time to go....even as the host is standing there in their pyjamas looking longingly at the clock.
|I'm totally kickin' your ass Winter!|
You see....I grew up. You didn't. My priorities shifted....yours didn't. I guess to some extent I should've seen it coming. I mean, over the years you've always been into the same things. Every year it was all about cold and snow and sleet and freezing rain. Sure you'd mix it up every now and then with a good ol' dose of frostbite. But c'mon man. Things got real boring real quick. Our visits eventually always followed the same routine.
Me: "Hey Winter! How have you been? It's been about a year since we last talked."
You: "Hey dude! Ya things have been awesome man! You know. Freezing people out. Making cars slide into ditches....totally cool stuff."
Me: "Huh. Isn't that what you did last time we talked? And the year before that?"
You: "Well ya. It's kind of my thing."
.............and so on and so forth for the rest of time........
|Fat Kid + Momentum+ Slippery Hill=AWESOME!!!|
Maybe we'll never get back what we once had. I'm willing to accept that. I willing to accept that we may need to change the rules of our relationship so that we're not at odds for the rest of my life. I know I left your completely for 4 years. California offered me an escape from you and your abusive tendencies but I came back. I always come back.
|Contrary to popular belief...I didn't have a gun to my head when choosing to leave this behind.|
- We will have contact with one another during the months of November through March. Any correspondence outside of that range will result in cursing and swearing and shaking my fist at the sky.
- You will give these dunder-head weathermen ample warning before you drop ass on us. These guys seem to have trouble tying their own shoes most days let along predicting the weather. They might as well "Consult the bones" rather than watching the Doppler radar. It'd probably more accurate.
- You'll keep your tantrums down to no more than 5 over the course of the season. I don't mind an occasional flurry here or there....but 30+ centimetres and 6 feet of sleet and ice don't cut it anymore.
|I'm not crying....I'm sweating tears from my eyeballs.|
The Can-eh-dian Kid.