By M. Scott Morris/NEMS Daily Journal
My first reaction on Thursday morning was disappointment because the long-promised snow had not arrived.
Around 8 a.m., I put on my cold-weather gear and took Bix the Mississippi mudhound on a walk. My disappointment slipped away as white flecks accumulated on Bix’s back.
Nearly two years ago, it started snowing on a Friday afternoon. I let the heat escape through the storm door so I could watch the white stuff pile up on my yard. At about 9 p.m., we bundled up the kids to stomp around for a while.
“We need to move to another town,” I told my wife.
“Ooookaaay,” she said. “Why?”
“So we can get more snow.”
“I know what you mean,” she said.
But we didn’t move, and I think I know why:
• First, Northeast Mississippi is God’s country, and anybody who says otherwise is looking for a punch in the mouth.
• Second, what if we moved somewhere farther north and I learned to despise snow?
I pondered that question Thursday morning, as Bix and I made our rounds.
The two of us take that same walk almost every day. We’ve gone in burning sunshine, as well as pounding rain. Now, we’ve gone in the falling snow, which I think is best. Bix disagrees.
“Where are the squirrels?” he said.
“Staying warm, I suppose.”
“It’s not the same without them.”
“No, I don’t guess it is,” I said, “but I’m having fun.”
I liked picking out a flake somewhere in the distance, then watching its descent while other flakes fell around it. It reminded me of the 3-D version of “A Christmas Carol,” the last time a “snowflake” fell in front of me.
“This is better than the movies,” I said.
“I should hope so,” Bix said. “I’ve never seen the point in movies. They don’t smell right.”
We got back to the house, and the kids were ready to come out to play.
Don’t think I’m complaining, but parenthood often is more like a thrill ride than a pleasure cruise.
On Thursday, parenthood was a trip through a winter wonderland, where adults and kids couldn’t help smiling together. As long as we kept throwing the ball for Bix, he was happy, too.
At one point, Evan lay on the grass and said, “It’s snowing on me.” We laughed because it was seriously funny.
I got to thinking that our snow day was a rare gift. Would less than an inch of snow provide as much fun if we lived in a town that regularly got bombarded by snow? Doubtful.
Besides, a bunch more snow would mean more driving on slippery roads, and I think my standard of living would decline terribly if I had to buy a snow shovel.
For now, we’re grateful for our short trips through Mississippi’s winter wonderland. But if we get another snow this year, the Morris family won’t complain.
M. Scott Morris is a Daily Journal entertainment writer. Contact him at (662) 678-1589 or firstname.lastname@example.org.