I'm walking home from the laundromat this morning and there's this little girl, maybe 4, with a plastic toy shovel digging at the snow on (presumably—she was too busy to talk) her front lawn. The lawn had maybe five or six little spots of snow remaining, each about the size of a soup bowl, and she had decided, one imagines, it was time for that snow to go. I agree. Yea, kid.
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