A couple of weeks ago—on my birthday, no less—karma aligned and gave the girls a snow day. With just an inch or two of snow on the ground, their morning started with building little snow walls in the front yard. That fun had a short shelf life, so my brain immediately shifted into find them a hill mode.

The girls don’t have much experience with snow or sledding, so anything longer than a few feet was going to feel like an upgrade. Expectations were low, which honestly made the mission easier. We headed to a nearby park, only to find the roads leading in “suggestively” blocked off because of slick conditions. I was in one of those it’s just a suggestion moods, so I parked outside the entrance and we walked in.

The girls were slightly concerned about what exactly we were doing, but they also figured if anyone was going to get in trouble it would be me, not them—so they followed without much hesitation.

We eventually found an okay hill. (Note to self: we really need to scout out better hills.) But for them? It was perfect. They slid down again and again, laughing the whole time. Things got even more fun when I decided it would be a great idea to sit at the bottom of the hill and let them treat me like a bowling pin at the end of a long lane.

It worked—probably too well. They tried new angles, new ways to gain speed, and each run ended with a bigger smile and a harder collision. And from my spot at the bottom, I got some great shots: real joy, real winter fun, and the kind of memory that sticks around longer than the snow did.