Since I was just a wee lad, I have had a bit of a fancy for the fluffy stuff. No day too cold, no winter too long.
Long known for my Native American adaptation of the rain dance, sour puss acquaintances loath me when the atmospheric water vapor frozen into crystals falls in white flakes and lay on the ground in enough abundance to render the world white.
With every scornful look or comment sent my way, I laugh in a menacing tone. Lay upon me all you have madam winter as I gleefully embrace it all.
As a father, I could only hope my scion would relish in the joys of winter.
And so a mother and a father eagerly assay that hope on this winter's first bounty with plastic simplicity and the mutual force by which all bodies attract one another.
Wouldn't you know.....
Like father, like son.