Deep, deep sadness. That is what the snow brought Henry upon his first exposure. He started by being propped up against the single stair on our deck in the hopes of a quick snapshot. He was happy enough and stable so upon stepping back to snap the shutter it was a great surprise that he slid a few inches to his right and promptly found a clump of snow in his face. At best it could be described as a gentle lurch, but given the shock of snow on his face it became a traumatic, shocking fall. The picture below captures the moment immediately following the tumble. Hopefully he learns to enjoy the snow and we do not end up raising a boy that endlessly inquires about the date we'll be moving to Hawaii.
After a week passed we decided to attempt another exposure to snow. I don't know how long his memory retains isolated experiences, but hopefully it is less than a week. We geared him up, snapped him into a small sled, and tugged him around the snowy field behind our condo. He never came close to crying or fussing, though the look of suspicion is undeniable. He's willing to learn to love snow, but as parents we remain on notice.