On the day of the big game, I made a small snowman. The big game being the sport where people destroy each other’s brains—also known as the Super Bowl. It’s the last day of football. Hooray! The last day of people bashing each other’s brains in.
But honestly, I wasn’t even thinking about the Super Bowl or brain destruction when I made this snowman. I was just taking out the trash when I noticed a patch of snow left from a recent, modest snowfall. Most of it had already melted, but there was enough to work with. Before it disappeared completely, I decided to seize the moment and make a snowman. A tiny one.
When we get a decent snowfall, I’ll sometimes carry a bag of carrots in my jacket just in case the opportunity arises for an impromptu snowman. This wasn’t one of those times. I hadn’t planned on making anything, but there I was, sculpting little snowballs out of what was left in the yard.
Once I had the snowman assembled, I realized it needed a nose. I went inside to grab a baby carrot. My wife, seeing what I was up to, reminded me not to use the big carrots because she needed them for chili. The thought of using a carrot bigger than the snowman itself gave me a good laugh.
Back outside, I carefully chose the smallest baby carrot I had brought with me, and ate the bigger one as a snack. A couple of twigs completed the look, and my tiny snowman was ready to take on the warm afternoon sun.
And there it stood, my tiny snowman, a small reminder that sometimes the best things happen in the in-between moments. No grand plans, no big gestures—just a little snow, a baby carrot, and some time before the sun melted it all away. It felt good to make something just for the fun of it, even if it only lasted for a few hours.
While everyone else geared up for the Super Bowl, I had my own quiet victory: a carrot-nosed snowman on the lawn, cheering on the simple joys of a winter day.