Did you enjoy that bit of snow we received last week? I most certainly did.

I once floated a theory that the powerful milk and loaf bread wholesalers were in cahoots with meteorologists. While in New York a few years ago, I approached Today Show weatherman Al Roker at an outdoor taping and asked if it was true that he owned stock in Sunbeam bread and Maola milk. Within seconds, Al's security team escorted me to the NBC gift shop. I was coerced into signing a non-disclosure agreement and given a free "juice" flask bearing the likeness of Kathie Lee and Hoda.

I like snow and wish last week's "snow event" had yielded a larger accumulation. We're all so busy these days it's nice when a few inches of snow shuts everything down and allows the world to rest. Some of my best memories with my kids involve snow days. Behold this video of me pulling TD#2 around in the snow like a pack mule:

Our two Tax Deductions both like snow but for different reasons. TD#1 (15) likes to look at it through a window, eat snow cream and walk around in it long enough to take a picture and then head back inside. TD#2 (nearly 10) on the other hand sees snow as raw material destined to become a massive art installation. If we'd let her, she'd stay outside for days as long as there was snow. 

On Thursday night around 8 o'clock, I brought whatever I was working on to a stopping point and took the TDs outside to enjoy the falling snow. As expected, TD#1 spent five minutes getting dressed in order to be outside for two minutes.

Although TD#1 big timed us and retreated to the warmth of the house, our faithful dog/goat/orangutan hybrid Lucille was keen to frolic in the snow with us. Even though she'd eaten her weight in dog food and table scraps during the day, Lucille stopped every few feet to snack on snow as if it were sugar. Just three days earlier she sat in our yard eating a collard leaf. Don't believe me? Here's a clip:

With flashlights and our Dr. Moreau canine by our side, TD#2 and I went for a half-mile walk across the shining snowscape. We ended up under a large nightlight atop a telephone pole and watched the snow in the light for several minutes. This being North Carolina, we noticed a few mosquitoes mixed in with the snow.

Upon returning to base camp TD#2 began work on a snowman. At first, it looked more like that mashed potato thing Richard Dreyfuss constructed in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Eventually, something resembling a snowman appeared, complete with a carrot nose, button eyes, and TD#2's mittens and scarf.

I called home from work the following day and The Wife informed me that TD#2 had relocated the snowman to a shady part of the yard. Not only had she moved it out of the sun, but had added to it. When I arrived home that night I was greeted by a much larger snowman, bearing a striking resemblance to legendary actor Wilford Brimley.

On Saturday - three days after the brief burst of snow - TD#2 somehow managed another addition to the now-massive snowman. How did she do it? She'd transported mounds of snow to a part of the yard that never gets sunlight the day before so she'd have another day of snow-fueled fun. I haven't seen this level of cunning and optimization of limited resources since Lyle Lovette married Julia Roberts.

This kid put more thought into her snowman project than the team behind the Empire State Building. If we can somehow channel her ingenuity into some sort of money-making proposition, my dream of retiring at 50 and taking my puppet-version of Casino on the road is within reach. You haven't lived till you've seen a sockpuppet Joe Pesci go nuts on a degenerate gambler.