Temerarious Tabias- July Snow

April Showers bring May flowers, so June glowers at July’s last snowing hours?

Tabias glared out the window at the falling snow. It covered the newly green grass. Schools out for summer, friends are traveling, and he’s stuck at their grandparents’ houses. With Sister.

Grandfather snores silently on the couch, ie. Babysitting.

“Tabias,” Sister’s nose pinched, the whiny voice came from the kitchen, “where’s the milk?”

“It’s gone,” Tabias replied. Grandfather didn’t even budge in his sleep.

“I can’t have cereal then!?” she wailed and unfortunately appeared next to Tabias.

“Quiet sister, we’ll have to wait till grandmother’s home. Then she’ll take us to buy milk,” Tabias resumed watching the snowflakes pile outside the window.

“Isn’t it supposed to be summer break?” Sister asked, folding her arms as Tabias’ were on the windowsill. They stood there silent for a moment, and as if they enjoyed each other’s company, then sister asked if they could make a snowman.

“Might as well,” Tabias replied.

Coats were put on, gloves, and sneakers. It wasn’t freezing outside so they just needed to cover all the sensitive parts. Tabias made sure sister’s coat was zipped up as he knew all too well how many complaints she could have if snow were to touch her skin.

“It’s too tight!” she complained instead.

Outside, Sister whined that the sun was too bright, and her sunglasses were in grandmother’s truck. When they rolled the giant snowballs, she complained they were too heavy.

“The snows too sticky! It’s all over my gloves and jacket. Tabias! Are you even listening to me?” She snapped and threw a handful of snow at him. It slid down the back of his jacket, and he growled in response.

“I’m tired, I don’t want to do this anymore,” she stated when the snowman was only half ready. Tabias’ bear ears twitched, he wanted to rage, but instead, he mumbled something similar to, ‘fine.’

“Tabias,” she had her bottom on the doorstep, and her feet were making shapes in the snow, “make me a Frosty, the Snowman.”

“I am,” he retorted as he rolled the last ball for the snowman.

“No, I mean a real Frosty! I want him to dance and sing and be real!”

“That needs magic,” Tabias rolled his eyes and lifted the massive snowball for the head.

“I mean it!” Sister screamed, kicking snow at him. “I want him to move like a person!” She began kicking a frenzy as if a snowstorm d come from the ground up. Tabias walked over and planted the to-be-snowman’s head firmly on Sister’s body. She stopped kicking and stood up.

“There, a walking blind-snow-girl.” Tabias walked into the house and closed the door as the wet snow muffled sister’s screams, and she wandered.

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