The Christmas Walk

On Christmas day, just like we do every year, we went for our Christmas walk.
This year we went to the sawmills near St Johns, as I have been asking to go there for ages, and I think my parents were getting fed up of my constant childlike nagging.

Therefore, when we were on the way, I was very excited.

And by the time we arrived I was quivering with energy, which I desperately needed to release, and quickly.
I also found that there was fresh snow on the ground. Endless fresh snow.
With no dents or footprints in it.
This *had* to be rectified.

Once I had destroyed as much snow as I wanted, my attention was diverted elsewhere.

I was unstoppable in my quest, to the point where, even when my brother was down, I started to kick snow in his face.

This was when my brother decided that he was going to die.
He was cold and he was wet and I had filled his wellies with snow.
The next load of snow that flew his way was the catalyst. With an Oscar-winning performance, he keeled over. It was like something out of a war movie. He started to crawl away, every so often stopping to look up at me and our parents to make sure that we were indeed witnessing his demise.

I got bored so I went to kick some snow off a bridge.

Soon I was competing with myself to see how far I could kick it.

And I won.

Because I'm a winner.

Then I made a snow angel. Big mistake.

There I was, lying on the floor, when suddenly my brother starts kicking snow in my face. I thought I was actually going to die.

He wouldn’t stop.
I rolled onto my side, so he moved round to that side and continued.
Eventually, I struggled to my feet.

Then I picked my brother up and chucked him in the snow.

Because I am a:

Always.