Spring Has Sprung

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Spring has sprung...like it or not...
By Dan Reinhold

The monster snowfall that covered many parts of New England is almost gone for good, except for some pitiful remnants of once-mighty snowmountains. With the melting snow comes, of course, the frequent rains. Add a thawing ground surface and from that recipe comes...mud. Recently, my backyard has become the rugby field from heaven - a little grass, a lotta mud.

Having two boys who love being outside, no matter what the weather ("I don't care how much fun that tornado looks - it's time to eat!!")also means that some of the gear used for proper snow frolicking is still required...at least according to Dad. As I was working the other day, I had a barely contained, yet frantic interruption from my five year old. You know...sort of like the pee dance, as in "I really gotta!!!" He'd just finished his after-school snack (actually, it's his warmup for dinner) and came to politely but insistently request my help in getting ready to go outside and play.

First on the list was locating the snow boots. By now, they were no longer snow boots, but rather mud-and-slime-and-anything-else-I-can-find boots. This little guy's 110% pure Boy.

The search finally turned up the desired items amid many impassioned cries of "We GOTTA find 'em, Dad!!!" Next was persuading him to sit still long enough to put them on. The energy contained in one excited five year old boy is more than enough to power New york City for one week. Trying to catch one is like trying to catch a ricocheting cannonball. At last I got him seated - he's anxious to go outside, I'm thinking about a nap already - I pick up one well-worn, tattered snow boot (new four months ago)and after several frenzied attempts to kick his foot forcibly into it, Nicholas is now wearing what's left of his snow boot.

One more to go. Fatherhood, especially work-at-home fatherhood, has taught me how a soon-to-be Olympic gold medalist feels when he sees the finish line. Winding up for a kick that would outdo Bruce Lee, (Note: younger readers, please insert Jet Li here) Nicholas lets fly with pinpoint accuracy and... stops. Halfway into the boot.

"Daaaaddd!! There's sump'n in there!" he exclaimed. Now the little head is where the little foot had been and he reaches inside, saying "Sump'n in there..." Then, in a scene most Hollywood writers would rack their brains for years to envision, he slowly pulls out a dead bird. Not toy bird or even stuffed bird. A real live dead bird, no doubt a loving present from the cat.

He stares at it a moment with a mix of curiosity and awe. His father, in the meantime, freaks out. "DROP THAT!" The carcass falls into my waiting but not wanting hand and I run to give it the quickest, if not most dignified burial in the trash can. Some crazed hand-washing on my part while Nicholas stands dumbstruck at the sink, still unsure of what really happened while I smother his hands with liquid soap. A jacket and off he goes.

The moral of this story? Weary old snow boots make way for dead birds.

Ah, spring!


With two boys, a dog, a cat, a wife and a household to keep together to boot, Dan Reinhold is the editor of WAHumor to hang on to his sanity by showing how insane the work-at-home community can be. Work at home? You deserve a laugh!

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