Growing up in South Jersey, we rarely had deep snow, so I didn’t have winter boots. But this wasn’t a problem, because our family loved bread. When we were blessed with snow, I would grab two empty Wonder Bread bags from the stash on the cellar door and a couple of rubber bands. Sliding a bag over each shoe, I would roll a rubber band up over the bags to secure the top.
After one heavy snowfall, my older sister, Nancy, our little brother, Earle, and I headed outside in our “Wonder Boots” with Dad to make a snowman. As we started rolling the first big ball, Dad smiled and said, “I have an idea.” He hurried to the garage and brought back a stepladder. His smile had grown even bigger. We knew that if Dad had an idea that made him that happy, we were sure to be amazed. He placed the ladder in the middle of the yard. “We are going to make a snow slide! “See,” he explained, pointing to the ladder, “we already have the steps, and we just need to roll balls and make the slide.
Dad packed the front and smoothed the surface. Little Earle was cruising around, essentially eating snow and hanging off the first two steps of the ladder, while my sister and I were busy rolling snow. We had removed the snow from the entire yard by the time the slide was completed. The snow on the sides of the structure was becoming a touch grimy with pieces of crabgrass and holly leaves. I could imagine a time when every yard would have a snow slide, and Dad would be credited with its invention. Once the slide was finished, Dad went inside, and I saw Mother wave to us from the window. Nancy bailed out early, taking our little brother with her. I enjoyed the slide until my bottom felt numb.
Stepping inside the warm house, I saw the family gathered in the living room. Mother was sitting in the recliner doing a crossword puzzle with a pen because she could. I walked past her to hang up my coat.
Mother burst out laughing. We all turned toward her, but she was struggling to speak. I realized she was pointing at me, or more accurately, at my behind. As I reached around, my hand felt the slippery nylon of my panties among the shredded pants. The icy slide had destroyed my worn slacks! As I ran upstairs, everyone was laughing, even Little Earle, who hadn’t a clue why. Worse than the humiliation, my dreams of being the daughter of a famous inventor were dashed.
