Mischievous March strikes again

Wade Young, Montgomery Messenger

Saturday, while he was standing in shorts and a t-shirt in 60-degree weather, my son, Mecca, muttered, “I’m so glad winter’s over.”
Yes, the lack of snow and warm sun gave him the impression winter was finished.
Yes, the balmy temperatures made us think of packing up the winter boots and shovels.
But, we know better than to be fooled by March’s trickery.
When he said this, I smiled, because Mecca doesn’t say much. I was thrilled we were having a meaningful conversation. I was hoping more would follow.
Alas, the magic was over.
Trying to keep the dialogue flowing, I contributed the statement: “Remember, it’s March. Winter’s not over. Just wait and see. Basketball’s March Madness always brings a snowstorm.”
March is like a mischievous leprechaun, kind of like Mother Nature’s naughty nephew who appears from nowhere, laughs, creates a snowstorm, and gleefully watches us cry over more slush.
As predicted, Monday arrived, and so did the snow. After having a “Snow Day” of school work, Mecca was asked (OK, “told”) to help me clear the driveway of seven inches of the wet and heavy gunk.
I witnessed the memories of sun, thaw, and beautiful warm temperatures fade from his body.
I felt bad.
But only for a minute, because my back hurt.
Together, we succeeded in clearing the driveway. We did it together - more father-son bonding time.
Neither one of us said much during this tender moment. We just wanted to finish.
It was special, but something we don’t want to repeat any time soon.


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