Slushy Snowman
“It is snowing outside,” said Stacey, looking outside the window of her home in Quebec City, Quebec. “I am going to go outside and build a snowman.”
Stacey dressed in her warmest winter clothing and went outside. There was about ten centimeters of fresh snow.
“This is perfect snow for building a snowman,” said Stacey.
Stacey had her snowman all built and was putting the final touches on him when the snow came down even heavier.
“I’d better get inside,” said Stacey.
“You can’t leave me out here in this storm,” yelled the snowman. “I will freeze.”
“You talk?” asked Stacey.
“Yes I talk,” said the snowman.” Please help me?”
“I don’t know what you want help with,” said Stacey. “You are a snowman. You won’t freeze because you are already frozen.”
“I don’t want to stay out here,” said the snowman, angrily.
“Why are you so angry?” asked Stacey.
“I was built in the middle of a snowstorm,” said the snowman, getting so angry that he started to heat up.
“You are being foolish,” said Stacey. “And now look. You have gotten so angry that you heated up and now you are standing in a pile of slush. I am going to call you, Slushy Snowman.”
That made Slushy Snowman laugh. He loved his name. It made him happy and for a moment, he forgot all about being angry about being created in the middle of a snowstorm.
Moral of this Story:
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