I invited all of Frosty’s friends. I didn’t have the heart to warn them about the forecast. When I greeted them at the door, I had one hand tied behind my back, and the other one out for the brittle hand shake.
I hung their scarves and earmuffs, gathered their mittens, and invited them in for a quick round of snipping. Looking back, they must have thought I said, “Sipping.”
When I shouted, “Heads-up!” Their charcoal eyes dropped and fell about the floor.
This space still stands evident of their capture and demise, but what the heck, the dog and I are off to enjoy a walk.
Pray tell, who in their rightful, frozen mind, would show up at a Spring garden party dressed like that, anyway?