"Momma, where does the snow come from?"

The kids were thrilled this morning when they awoke to snow on the ground. I was feeling significantly less thrilled, as I absolutely hate snow in particular, and cold weather in general.

Going into the kitchen Grace asks, "Momma, where does snow come from?"

"From God," I tell her (Mike snickers here and say, "I figured you'd say from the devil.")

This leads to a discussion of where does God live. Trying to explain something to Grace is about as effective as bashing your head on a rock and expecting it to feel good. Needless to say, we will be revisiting the subject at another time.

So, the snow stops, and she's sad. She wants MORE SNOW! Her daddy tells her to ask God. She climbs up onto the couch, pushes aside the curtains, and looks out the picture window. She says, "God, please send more snow, please."

And you know what? It started to snow again.

So now, every time the flurries stop, she goes over to the window and asks, "God, please send more snow, please."