Lacrosse in March, Somehow Still Snowing

Jaxsen had a lacrosse practice at 8:30 on a Saturday morning. I don't remember agreeing to a schedule like that, but apparently I did, and there we were — driving up to a field in Kenmore at 8 a.m. in the second week of March, watching snowflakes fall on artificial turf that was already turning white.

The other parents made the kind of faces you make when something is technically fine but feels slightly insane. We had all made the same choice to be there. Nobody left.

The kids didn't care. They ran out with their gear on and started playing in it like the snow was a feature, not a problem — like it had been arranged for them specifically. There's something genuinely instructive about watching a nine-year-old not register cold as an obstacle.

One of Jaxsen's teammates showed up in a Grateful Dead hoodie under his shoulder pads. I don't know whose kid this is, but I want to meet their parents.

The turf stayed mostly green underneath the dusting. By 9:30 it had stopped. By 10:00 the sun was out and you could almost convince yourself it had never happened. Adalind, who had spent most of practice sitting in the car refusing to get out, came over to ask if we could get waffles.

We got waffles.