My cousins and I stood at the backdoor of their house admiring the pristine white blanket of snow covering their back lawn. Barb said, “Let’s play duck-duck-goose.” The four of us were ages nine through eleven.
Plowing into the unsullied expanse, Donna called out, “I’ll make the circle.”
We fell in line behind her and all went around three times for good measure. Our tracks were wide and easy to see. A weak January sun cast blue shadows in the ruts we’d trampled. Alice, the youngest, complained, “When we play this game in the snow, our tracks show if we cut across the circle!”
Big sister Barb chuckled, “That’s a good thing, because cutting across the circle is cheating!” Continue reading