My Best Day

              What was the best day of your life? Mine was years ago. On a snow day in the middle of January when I was ten. My parents called out of work and my brother and I had oatmeal for breakfast. I only remember the oatmeal because my dad was dancing around the kitchen grabbing pots and sugar while my mom was buttering toast. We ate breakfast and sat on the couch watching the Three Stooges until it was time to shovel.

              The snow stopped by the time my brother and I were all bundled up. I swear back then we looked like Randy in the Christmas Story with all of our layers. Anyway, we went outside with the dog and started making her a path. Thinking back I can't believe how young she was back then. Chyna was her name and she was a chow mix. She'd jump over the snow into the heap of snow we shovelled away. Half way through we gave up. Chyna was making it impossible and we were laughing to hard at her crazy antics to even try. So we spent the rest of the day trying to keep warm and watch old movies.

              Later on though it began to snow again. It wasn't heavy but you could see it from far away as if it went on for miles. I always thought the snow looked pretty at night with the way the street lights hit the road. It was the type of night we couldn't resist going out to play. So we all bundled up again and made our way out. The plan was to build a snow man, instead it turned into a snow ball fight. My parents ganged up on us and we ran for it. My brother and I hid behind one mountain of snow made by all of the shovelling earlier in the day. We sat and began rolling our balls of snow into a pile. I looked up to check where my parents were and instead I saw the light from the garage. It turned on outside from movement and I became sidetracked by it. The snow flakes fell so perfectly in that golden white light that I had to admire it.

              While spacing out from the beauty of fresh falling snow, I was hit. Hit square on the shoulder by my mom. She was having a ball, until she fell. Then it was our turn. I'm pretty sure that has been the only snow ball fight I've ever had. I've thrown snow balls at people but never for twenty minutes back and forth. So that's the best day of my life. Maybe because of the snow, or how perfect everything seemed. Or maybe it was because I was young and I can still taste my dads hot chocolate and know which episode of The Three Stooges we watched that day. Maybe it has to do with how I can still see Chyna hopping around in the snow before getting stuck and eating her way out. Maybe it has nothing to do with any of these things. Perhaps it was my best day because of how it all felt at the time. Whatever the case, no matter when or where, everytime it snows and I look out the window I flashback to that very night and I am content.