Where the snowballs fly

Earlier today, Josh and decided to go outside and run around in the snow like a couple of 8-year-olds. After wandering around  the shore of the frozen lake that’s behind our building, we raced to the top of the hill to head back home.

To make a long story short, I won the race, and he fell on his way up the hill at the exact moment I whipped a snowball at his head and hit him in the face.

(In a bit of cosmic justice, I laughed so hard that I fell over and landed in a snowbank.)