You know that horrifying feeling you get when you step on a Lego barefoot or even stub your toe against a coffee table in the dark? Well believe me it hurts a lot, but I experienced something that probably made me lose my manhood and also traumatized me for life. I attempted to make a snowball without gloves, and this whole event, I blame on my dad. I remember this vividly. It feels just like yesterday that it happened. This day I felt like a little girl when she loses her Barbie. It was that intense of a moment that it changed my opinion of snow for life.
It was a beautiful, bright, and not to mention a cold morning in Alaska. The birds were chirping, father was making coffee, and there was a huge white blanket of snow outside of our hotel window. My older sister Francheska, my older brother Franky, and last but not least, me, the youngest. We all wanted to go play in the snow, so we all got dressed to play outside. I was only a little kid at the time, so my dad had to help me get dressed. As we were heading out, there was one thing that was missing, and at that moment, everything went downhill. Right when we went outside, within the first five minutes, my life changed and my opinion of snow changed. My forgetful old dad forgot to put gloves on me, and my little boy hands went straight into the ice of death, and I should mention it was tremendously freezing. Right away, I cried so loud from the freezing snow that I felt like I was going to die. It was below 0 and at that time, my little boy body could not take the cold snow.
While I was crying, my eyes out with how blue my hands were, and not to mention, how unbelievably freezing they were, my brother and sister were in the foreground just laughing which made me feel worse. All I did was cry, cry, cry, and cried some more as my sympathetic dad rushed me into the hotel room to rinse my hands under some hot water. The warm water helped to thaw my hands, but it was excruciating at the same time. My dad then wrapped my hands in a warm toasty blanket, and I was thinking to myself, “wow, this could be the worst thing that could ever happened to me,” as I have tears and snot running down my face. Trust me, I looked ugly at the moment. Moments later, my mom then walk in and all concerned she says, “What happened to my baby?” What she really meant though was, “What did you idiots do?” My dad explains to mom what happened and my mom cuddles up next to me for comfort and warmth, which helped a lot. She was like a mother bear protecting her young.
As I look back on this breath taking moment, where I thought I would die, to this point, now being 21, I hate snow with a fiery passion. Whenever I go see family up north and it snows, I sadly stay inside watching everyone have fun in a hazardous environment where I almost lost my hands. That time in my life was not the worst time, but it was not the best time at all, and this whole event is caused by my dad, but I still love him even though he did forget my gloves.
In conclusion, this story I tell now jokingly because I will never forget this day in my life. I like to twist my dad’s arm with this story or in other words I hold this against my dad and we laugh about it now. I even tell my dad, “When I have a child, I’ll tell him this story and I’ll tell him you won’t be able to go to Alaska with your grandfather because he will forget to put gloves on you.” This time in my life changed my opinion of snow forever now, and I will always hate snow, that white blanket of death.
