Once upon a very chilly Tuesday, the wind forgot how to whisper and decided to sing instead. It howled over Maple Street, tossing little spirals of snow into the air like confetti. In the front yard of the yellow house on the corner, Max and Lila were building the most serious snowman ever made by two very unserious kids.

They gave him three round snowballs: big, bigger, and “whoa, that’s huge.” His eyes were shiny buttons, his nose was a crooked carrot, and his mouth was a lopsided grin made of chocolate chips that Max definitely did not eat while working. Lila wrapped an old red scarf around his neck, and for the grand finale, they placed Dad’s forgotten, slightly squashed fedora on his head.