Frosty the Zombie

This is a little step away from the kind of outdoors stories I normally write, but it seems appropriate for this time of year. My story begins on the Monday afternoon after the Patriots won the Super Bowl.  My son Jack’s kindergarten was cancelled due to the coming snow storm. My son Eli doesn’t have preschool on Mondays.  My wife, Julie, and I were able to sleep in for a little bit. It was shaping up to be a nice snow day.

We slowly woke up and ate breakfast. I showered longer than I normally have time for and enjoyed my coffee in pajama pants while watching the news. I got a few chores done, then slipped into a TV/Instagram vortex. Occasionally, I was pulled out of my trance to answer one of the kids’ questions or tell them to stop fighting over a toy or something.

As time slid by, I noticed more and more of my neighbors were shoveling their driveways, which made me wonder I should be doing the same. The weather report on my phone said it would be snowing until midnight. I figured, “Why would I do now what I can put off ’til later?”

Somewhere around 1:30 in the afternoon, I was hit by the feeling of boredom with a dash of lazy guilt. I get fidgety in times like these, and judging by the thuds and screams coming from the kids’ playroom, they do as well. I turned off the news and started getting dressed while trying to get the boys changed into their snow gear. It was snowing, and our backyard looked like a winter postcard, so I told the kids we were going to make an old-fashioned snowman. I don’t recall ever making one.

I started to formulate a plan. We would make three snowballs and stack them on top of each other in descending order of size. I wasn’t going to bother looking for carrots, coal or a top hat because I knew we didn’t have any. This snowman was going to be basic and built strong. That was the plan before we stepped outside the door, anyway.

I announced the plan to my excited boys, and Jack suggested that we make it a zombie snowman — the perfect plot for our little endeavor. We would build it, then destroy it, which seemed like a great way to spend the next hour or two.

We eagerly marched into the blizzard. When we got to the middle of the yard, I grabbed a bunch of snow and started to roll it into a ball. Luckily it was sticky snow. The first ball had a diameter of about 2 feet. The second was around a foot and a half tall, and the third was about the size of a basketball. Jack wanted to help me roll the snowballs, and Eli was having his own fun lobbing snowballs at us while we did it. He was more excited for the next part, which was going to be dismembering the zombie snowman.

I lifted the torso piece up onto the base piece, which probably destroyed my back. It was way heavier than I thought it would be.  At least the head piece was easy to lift and set onto the body.

Now there was a big pile of snowballs in the yard that needed some appendages. I found a stick, broke it over my knee and plunged the two arms into the torso. I ripped another stick off of a tree and broke it down into little pegs that became the eyes, the nose and the mouth. Now we had a proper snowman. I asked the boys what they wanted to name him, and without much hesitation, Jack called out, “Boo 2.”

In the fall, the boys and I made a scarecrow. I didn’t have rope to tie off the pant legs and sleeves, but I did have a roll of duct tape in my truck. I sealed off the arms and legs with the tape and asked the boys to help me stuff it with pine needles. I rested a pumpkin on top for a head, and we had a finished scarecrow.  I asked the boys what they wanted to name him, and without much hesitation, Jack called out, “Boo.” I think I see a trend starting.

I had the kids pose for a photo with Boo 2 before the fated snow battle because I wanted some kind of record of our creation. All work aside, it was time to have some fun and kill the snow zombie.

We took turns throwing snowballs at Boo 2’s head. Piece by piece we chipped away at it until there was no more head. The boys asked if he was dead, and I said, “Of course not. These zombies keep going even after you’ve destroyed the head.”

So we had to dismantle the torso. The snowballs we were throwing were not doing much to destroy it though. Our plan quickly unraveled into karate chopping and punching the torso to pieces. We even ripped his arms off.

The boys looked at me again and asked if the snow zombie was finished. I said, “Nope. You have to destroy the legs.” We kicked the remaining portion of the snowman back into a pile of snow and then used his arms to destroy the remaining snow pile. Boo 2 was no longer with us.

We stuck it out for a little bit longer, but hit the wall. We were cold and bored. And I just wanted to go back inside, throw our wet clothes in the dryer, put on sweat pants, and fall back into my technology vortex. That is, as soon as I shoveled the driveway.