Building a Snowman

Another day, another snowstorm. This one wasn't as deep as the last one. But at this point, it's a little like saying that this ice pick jabbing me in the eye is a little smaller than the last one that was jabbing me in the eye.
But it could have been worse. Sure, it was heavy, wet snow, but it's the kind that's good for making snowballs. I had things cleared pretty quickly.

Amazingly, when I was nearly done, Sam decided to come outside. This is almost unheard of: coming outside, of his own free will. Usually it's like pulling teeth to get him outside, never mind on a cold winter's day, in a snowstorm. But there he was, all geared up in his camo parka and snow pants (camo for any other time of the year that is, except winter).

"Sam, do you want to shovel?"
"No."
"Want to help brush off the cars?"
"Um,...not really."
"What would you like to do?"
"Uh, I don't know", he shrugged.

He shuffled a bit over by a snow bank and looked lost. Did he want to go back inside? It seemed like a lot of work to get dressed up to come out, only to head back in.He came out for a reason, even if he can't say.

It hit me that it's been years since he made a snowman. So long ago in fact, that when I asked him how long it's been, he couldn't remember if he ever had. I doubt I would have been able to remember the last time either if I hadn't taken a picture; a picture that is REALLY old.

So I said, "Come on Sam, let's go out front and make a snowman."
"Uhhhhh ... ok", said Sam. The enthusiasm was not flowing.

We went out front and climbed up on the snowbank and we got the bottom part of the snowman started together. Sam helped me role and pat the growing snowball to keep it together, and we rolled it around the yard leaving snake-like patterns as we went. Sam picked out the spot where it should go and we rolled the snowball over to the spot until we got it just right. I got Sam started on a ball for the torso and I worked on the head. Together, we got them stacked one on top of the other and secured as best we could. I found some branches for the arms and Sam told me where to put them. I ran around back and got some pieces of charcoal for the eyes. We didn't have any carrots for the nose and Sam didn't like the idea of celery, so it was another stick for the nose and a curved stick for the smiling mouth.

Sam and "Frosty"

With the job well done, Sam let me snap a couple of photos... and then we went inside.

As he pealed off his jacket and snow pants, Sam complained how hot we was, and he plunked himself down to rest.

From time to time I would walk to the front window and look out at the snowman. "What a nice looking snowman", I would say. Sam was looking straight ahead at the TV, absorbed in his video game. "Yup, what a nice looking snowman." I said again. "I heard you the first time", Sam said.

"Oh. Well, don't you think he's nice?"
"I guess so", Sam says. His eyes never left the TV set.
"Well, I think he's pretty nice"
"Yeah", Sam said, in that way he has when he doesn't want to hurt someone's feelings.

Later, I made a couple more vain attempts to elicit any kind of response from Sam, but it was clear I wasn't going to engage him in any kind of conversation about this. Here I thought this would be something fun to do together; something to share with each other. But I guess it was more for me than Sam, which is fine. I just wish he had enjoyed it too.

I was completely surprised when Sam came home from speech therapy on Wednesday night with his worksheet. Among other activities, Sam had to list three things that make him happy. One of them was making a snowman with "my parents".

I'm glad it meant something to both of us.