The First Snowman

A family was making a snowman. They gave him lettuce hair, eyes from a doll’s head, and cigarette teeth. He’s beautiful, they exclaimed. Let’s make a wheelchair as his chariot, and put grandma’s shawl on him as a lap coat. When they went inside, a collie was pawing at his stomach. He will be innocent, they said over the roast lamb for dinner. He will live a life of purity, and have the perspective of one who silently watches a murder. No, they said, burping a little, on second thought he will be guilty, like someone who watches a murder silently.