A New Year Makes a New Man

For New Year's Eve, we babysat my almost-niece, Ana. She was eagerly watching out the window for us when we came to pick her up. We took her over to the Lehmitz's to hang out with all the cousins. After about an hour of playing with Barbies, she was ready to go to our house. We stuck it out until midnight watching movies, playing games, and eating treats. Like Ana, I was ready to go home at ten, I definitely felt old.

Will and I pretended to be parents for a little while. We woke up and made banana pancakes, gave Ana a bath, drew pictures, colored Disney princesses, and for the grand finale--we went to the park.

This is Ana as a little cook, mashing the bananas for the pancakes.

Will threatened us with snowballs, but we called a truce and he quickly rekindled his friendship with Ana.

For the New Year, we made a new man. Since I was the only one with gloves, the structure of our human was up to me. After careful deliberation, we decided that we would stick with the basic anatomy of a snowman, three balls stacked on top of each other. Ana was very adept with the detail work. Since we are eco-friendly, we used all found materials. Leaves were obviously the best choice for hair. To keep the leaves fashioned to his head, we had to devise a yammukah for him to wear. So our snowman quickly evolved into a Jewish snowman. Naturally, he had to have a beard, and pine needles were the perfect facial hair.

Unfortunately, our Jewish man lasted for a short time, he met his untimely death when Ana started pulling his beard out one strand at a time, and poking his eyes out with her pudgy fingers. No memorial service will be held.

After the snowman's demise, (I regret that we never named him) I introduced my mom, Ana, and Will to Tim Tam Slams. Basically, you take a fudge-covered grasshopper cookie, bite off little tidbits of the opposite ends, and suck hot chocolate throught the cookie until the inside becomes a supple mass of yumminess. What better way can you think of to kick off the new year?