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Teeth Chatterin'

snow man

She stared outside through the kitchen window like there was some miracle waiting for me there.

"Could you just get outside and play, like a normal child for once," she said, cigarette dangling from her lips.

We both knew I had to make scarce so her boyfriend could come by. Oscar didn't like children. That made the fact that I was ten a grievous inconvenience.

This was no time to waste on a Normal Rockwell moment. No carefully crafted snowmen or craft paper snowflakes.

Oscar provided things for her that motherhood could not. It was an easy choice.

"Well... get a move on."

I laced up my boots. I'd proudly treated 'em with boot grease and installed pristine bright red laces. I always loved the first steps out in fresh winter snow. The untouched crunchiness.

I had the adventure all mapped out. Down through the woods to Mastens 5 and 10 for giant globs of bubblicious bubble gum. two for ten cents. Along the waterfront to the dutch bakery for a hot chocolate and a maple bar, paid for with money stolen from the swear jar. I'd enjoy that fucking maple bar! A cheshire grin spread across my face the entire time.

Course plotted, I disappeared into the woods.

The rest of me could be freezing, teeth chattering, even. But my feet were confidently waterproofed and warm.

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