Lessons in Parenting: Death Comes to Snowgirl

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.

And kissed.

By everyone.

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…


Beth Hendrickson has held careers in new media marketing and teaching and currently manages the home front.  She writes about all things bright and beautiful in life and motherhood at Belle Squeaks.<


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