Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

As I was finishing making up supper tonight, I could hear my son Brian saying, "It's snowing, it's snowing." I said, "I don't think it's snowing tonight." Well I should have went to see exactly what he was talking about, but I didn't. So about 10 mintues later here he comes carrying his bucket. He says it again, "it's snowing." I say again, "I don't think so." He said, "yes it is, watch." that is when he proved me wrong. He put his hand into the bucket and pulled out a handful fo something. As he open his fist and dropped his gift of snow, I was confused as to what exactly I was watching cascade down through the air onto the kitchen floor. He surely didn't get the bottom off the hole punch. No, that is little pieces of styrofoam. What? Where he did he? I turned the corner and looked out into the dining room. Following him through the dining room and into the living room was the most beautiful little "snowfall" a 3 year old could ask for. The trail stopped at the pocket doors into our living room. Our home is over 100 years old and each time you pull out the pocket doors, out comes little pieces of styrofoam with it. I have vaccuumed it dozens of times as far back as the wand would reach, I think it magically reproduces. My precious little son had reached in and pulled out a bucket full of this stuff and let it snow all over. Through our room, through the arts and craft room, the bathroom, up the stairs...I headed back to the kitchen. I told him, "you'll have to pick that all up." knowing full well that it would be me to vaccuum it all up. "No problem, watch." He lays down on the floor and blows the snow under the refrigerator. "Thank you Brian."