The Great Boot Debacle: A Snowy Adventure in Georgia

Ah, snow in Georgia—the magical, once-in-a-blue-moon event that sends us Southerners into a frenzy of sledding on pool floats and panic-buying bread. 🍞❄️ It’s a day for making memories, snapping pics for Instagram, and apparently, reenacting a live comedy sketch involving boots. Spoiler alert: I was the star, and my kids were the overly enthusiastic supporting cast. 😅

The day started innocently enough. After rushing outside to ensure our snowman-building efforts could begin before the snow vanished (because, in Georgia, it does that by lunchtime), we layered up like we were preparing for a polar expedition. 🧥🧣 Blake looked like a pint-sized marshmallow in his puffer coat, and Brittany insisted her gloves needed “jazz” (cue glitter stickers that left a trail like she was a bedazzled Hansel and Gretel). ✨

And me? I strutted out in my trusty Hunter waterproof boots, feeling invincible against the slushy assault. 🥾💪

We built the world’s most Georgia snowman. ⛄ His nose? A pinecone from our tree that barely survived last summer’s drought. His eyes and mouth? Math manipulatives from my teaching days (because we’re resourceful like that). 🔢 His scarf? A proud ATL United number, of course. ⚽ He wasn’t just a snowman; he was a statement. The kids were ecstatic, naming him "Frosty Junior," despite my protests that he was clearly "Pinecone Pete."

After an hour of snow angels, snowball fights (I was the prime target, of course 🎯), and Frosty Junior admiration, I declared it was time to head inside. My toes were officially frozen solid. ❄️🦶 Easier said than done. As I crossed the threshold into the house, I discovered my boots had morphed into the world’s most committed clingy accessory. They weren’t coming off.

“No problem,” I thought. “The kids can help.” 🤷‍♀️

Famous. Last. Words. 🙃

What followed was a scene straight out of a slapstick comedy. Brittany grabbed one boot while Blake took the other. “Okay, PULL!” I commanded. What did they do? They pulled in opposite directions. I felt like a human wishbone, being yanked in two different directions by my pint-sized torturers. 🤦‍♀️

“It’s stuck FOREVER!” Brittany shouted dramatically. 🎭 Meanwhile, Blake, ever the problem solver, suggested, “Maybe you can just sleep in them!” 🛌🥾

Their attempts to free me got increasingly ridiculous. Brittany tried to use a hairbrush as a “lever” 🪮, while Blake suggested butter: “We could use it like on Thanksgiving when the turkey gets stuck!” 🦃 (Is it bad that I briefly considered it?) The grand finale was when Brittany yelled, “TUG-OF-WAR!” and they both pulled with all their might—sending me sprawling onto the floor in a heap, boots still firmly attached. 💥🤣

By this point, I was crying tears of laughter (or maybe exhaustion). 😂 “I’m going to live in these boots now,” I joked. “They’ll have to bury me in them.” Blake, with the wisdom of a 7-year-old, responded, “Well, that would save us money on shoes.” 👞👏

Eventually, with some awkward angles, my toolbox (don’t ask 🛠️), and a lot of wiggling, the boots surrendered. 🙌 I was free! My socks, however, didn’t survive the ordeal. They were soaked, stretched, and probably plotting their escape. 🧦💧

As I peeled myself off the floor and the kids burst into uncontrollable giggles, I realized something: This chaotic, ridiculous moment is exactly what snow days in Georgia are all about. They’re rare, unpredictable, and absolutely unforgettable—just like my kids. ❤️

So, while I may never look at those boots again without laughing (and possibly shuddering), I wouldn’t trade this memory for all the warm toes in the world. 🥰

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to start prepping for our next snow day… in 2029.

~ with the purchase of NEW boots 🌨️😜

~ Mary

#MomLifeWithMary