Spring Has Sprung
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Spring has sprung...like it or not... By Dan Reinhold
The monster snowfall that covered many parts of New England is
almost gone for good, except for some pitiful remnants of
once-mighty snowmountains. With the melting snow comes, of
course, the frequent rains. Add a thawing ground surface and
from that recipe comes...mud. Recently, my backyard has become
the rugby field from heaven - a little grass, a lotta mud.
Having two boys who love being outside, no matter what the
weather ("I don't care how much fun that tornado looks - it's
time to eat!!")also means that some of the gear used for proper
snow frolicking is still required...at least according to Dad.
As I was working the other day, I had a barely contained, yet
frantic interruption from my five year old. You know...sort of
like the pee dance, as in "I really gotta!!!" He'd just finished
his after-school snack (actually, it's his warmup for dinner)
and came to politely but insistently request my help in getting
ready to go outside and play.
First on the list was locating the snow boots. By now, they were
no longer snow boots, but rather
mud-and-slime-and-anything-else-I-can-find boots. This little
guy's 110% pure Boy.
The search finally turned up the desired items amid many
impassioned cries of "We GOTTA find 'em, Dad!!!" Next was
persuading him to sit still long enough to put them on. The
energy contained in one excited five year old boy is more than
enough to power New york City for one week. Trying to catch one
is like trying to catch a ricocheting cannonball. At last I got
him seated - he's anxious to go outside, I'm thinking about a
nap already - I pick up one well-worn, tattered snow boot (new
four months ago)and after several frenzied attempts to kick his
foot forcibly into it, Nicholas is now wearing what's left of
his snow boot.
One more to go. Fatherhood, especially work-at-home fatherhood,
has taught me how a soon-to-be Olympic gold medalist feels when
he sees the finish line. Winding up for a kick that would outdo
Bruce Lee, (Note: younger readers, please insert Jet Li here)
Nicholas lets fly with pinpoint accuracy and... stops. Halfway
into the boot.
"Daaaaddd!! There's sump'n in there!" he exclaimed. Now the
little head is where the little foot had been and he reaches
inside, saying "Sump'n in there..." Then, in a scene most
Hollywood writers would rack their brains for years to envision,
he slowly pulls out a dead bird. Not toy bird or even stuffed
bird. A real live dead bird, no doubt a loving present from the
He stares at it a moment with a mix of curiosity and awe. His
father, in the meantime, freaks out. "DROP THAT!" The carcass
falls into my waiting but not wanting hand and I run to give it
the quickest, if not most dignified burial in the trash can.
Some crazed hand-washing on my part while Nicholas stands
dumbstruck at the sink, still unsure of what really happened
while I smother his hands with liquid soap. A jacket and off he
The moral of this story? Weary old snow boots make way for dead
With two boys, a dog, a cat, a wife and a household to keep
together to boot, Dan Reinhold is the editor of WAHumor to hang
on to his sanity by showing how insane the work-at-home
community can be. Work at home? You deserve a laugh!
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