As I sit here in my kitchen today watching the snow out of the window I remember my childhood.

I think this winter it snowed like it did when I was a small child. We would wait patiently to get ready to go out and play and bundle up. Mom would get each one of us dressed so warmly that we could have stayed out for the entire day but we would eventually come inside to hot chocolate and tuna sandwiches. Sometimes it was peanut butter and jelly or mac and cheese but there was always a hot meal and piles of wet clothes in the hallway. Mom would then throw everything in the dryer and again it would begin when we were rested, and full from out warm food. I really do not recall how I handled playing in the snow while I was sick those two years, but I can bet with my wanting to keep up attitude with all the other kids, I tried to play the same amount of time in the snow, and enjoy the cold as long as I could. My memories of the snow  at that exact time are gone, but I still smile thinking about what I do remember. So today, after our 4th storm, I sit here and smile, one reason is because I am still here to smile, and the other because history repeats itself and my son and stepdaughter all did the same things in the snow as they were going through childhood. It remains a happy memory and will continue to go on throughout families forever. Childhood should be that way, always.