Just one well-aimed snowball
Frankly, I don’t throw a snowball very often these days. Occasionally I might toss a mischievous handful at Richard in the driveway. I do remember though, back when I was first aware that a good snowball is a weapon. I’ll never forget what happened: I was in the fourth grade. In the winter we couldn’t wait to blast out of school and race home for snow play. My classmate, Nancy, and I built a tall snow fort behind the front yard low hedge. It was a fun place to snuggle out of the wind and we kept fortifying and smoothing its sides with each new snowfall. We dug out peep holes so ...