Let it snow?
I remember the days when I used to go nuts seeing it snow outside. I would run from one side of the house to the other to see how well it was covering the surface. Happiness and excitement would flow out of my eyes. I would be a Formula 1 driver with my socks, gliding like a maniac on the wooden floors. My only wish would be to hear the governor close the schools the next day. Only then the real fun would begin. With the company of a few friends we would take on the white powder with multi layers of ski outfits. Our cheeks pumped with blood and our hands and feet soaking wet, we would become the Eskimos of the urban life. On the way back home, we would jump up and down to get rid of the snow stuck on us and take the leap into our beds after hours of snowman projects, snowball fights and trekking.
Along the years snow stayed the same, but I, unwillingly, have changed. I still think of the aftermath whenever I see snow outside the window, but from a completely different point of view. I now think of the mess that is going to be on the pavements the next day. The harmless beautiful white snow will turn into harsh ice and then melt into an annoying grey slush. Shoes will be ruined. Socks and pants will be soaking wet. Within all the crazy pavement traffic in Manhattan, we will once again be challenged with successfully solving an extra equation while walking. We will be forced to calculate the best routes to avoid falling down and/or getting wet on the corner of each block.
I am still a big fan of the snow, but I now have to be in parks or on ski slopes to let the kid in me take control.