Whitney gearing up to make a snowball.
On the way over to Seattle, we stopped for a snowball fight along the side of the road. When I was a kid, I absolutely hated snowball fights; maybe because I always ended up getting pummeled by really mean kids who liked to pack the snow into hardened ice-rocks, leaving bruises, welts, and other minor injuries. Of course, playing in the snow with my own children is a very different thing; no one aims to kill or maim the other, and we generally just try to have fun. Actually, I loved it. I mean, I really loved it. We laughed so hard we almost cried for joy. That's what winter was always meant to be.