This post is part of the Renaissance holiday blog roll! Find out what it’s all about here!
This story is one of the favourites in the pile of holiday fiction that I’ve written about my boys (Also known as the Muses/the Bastards). I hope that it brings some warmth and laughter into your life as it did to my friends when I wrote it.
Dan didn’t know what it was about snow, but it always turned his charges
into three year olds again.
They’d been making their way to the venue when it had started snowing.
Not just your regular snow — the big fluffy type stuff that you rarely see
outside of movies and television shows. The snow that dreams are made of.
It had taken a mere city block for the four of them to regress to childhood.
When they’d left the hotel, they’d been decently dressed, hair brushed. Now,
they stood in front of him sopping wet, hair everywhere, and a fine dusting of
snow clinging to every bit of fabric. Shaking his head, he smiled at them
knowingly. Snow like this happened only once in a blue moon, and far be it
from him to deny them some good, clean fun that no one would get in trouble
A missile pelted him on the back. Dan whipped around to find four
completely angelic, innocent, faces looking back at him. Turning back, he
kept walking but braced for more.
Rapid fire missiles fell on his jacket back. Again, four innocent faces faced
him that dared him to get angry with them. He turned back around and
casually started to walk away, a plan forming in his mind. As they neared the
venue, he covertly gathered some snow and formed it into a ball. Letting the
boys fall ahead of him, he took aim at Jon, the tallest in the crew and let fly.
The snowball arced perfectly through the air towards its target. What Dan
didn’t count on was his target, and the others with him, turning and returning
fire with two snow missiles each. Inside of seconds, he was coated with snow
from head to toe, looking very much like one of his charges, and his
snowball? Went wide and missed Jon entirely.
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