Certain things you expect to learn when you become a parent: changing diapers, folding onesies, bulking up the college savings.
Then along comes a Snowgirl.
Not to be confused with a Snowman.
Snowgirls have hearts, and hair, and mismatched eyes (penny and rock, respectively).
Snowgirls must be hugged.
Including the dog, if you can drag him unwillingly by the leash toward a snowy cheek.
And then comes the thing you were not prepared for in the Parenting 101 class: Snowgirls on a 50-degree day.
It fell to me to deal with Snowgirl the day after the slush melted.
First, I decapitated Snowgirl.
Then, I may or may not have poked out a penny eyeball.
For a second, I got her mushed back into a semi-reclined vertical position.
Then, her head piddled away again.
Finally, I admitted defeat and told a lie: “Snowgirl is sleeping. See? She’s lying down for a nap!”
So now I’m going to raise my hand and ask a follow-up question: What do I say tomorrow morning when all that remains of Snowgirl is a carrot, a heart, a handful of rocks, and a penny?
Maybe I could claim she had to run to the potty…