Sinister Snowballs

Um, this seems totally justified, doesn’t it? :)

Since we are blessed with snow this week, I couldn’t help but think of a true-life experience that deeply scarred me during those tender, vulnerable years. It seems a certain Donna, who apparently had a huge, inexplicable grudge against me, took matters into her own hands and set me up. Let me explain. Donna and I were in the same first grade class together and though the elementary school years we shared were brief (abet memorable), she acquired the dubious reputation of being a notorious busybody. Having grown up in the frozen North, a cardinal rule we were taught practically from infancy was: "No throwing snowballs on the playground during recess." While icy spheres were great fun to hurl at friend and foe alike, this risky pastime was only deemed proper during non-school hours. In retrospect, this was a reasonable request considering the amount of damage a seemingly innocent snowball can cause. There were plenty of playground accidents as it was and they were no doubt attempting to cut down on excessive ambulance runs. But I digress. Always a rule-follower, I was well aware of the “no throwing snowballs” edict from the nanosecond I started school and never in my wildest dreams would obedient little Miss Circe have flaunted that concrete command. Little did I know mischief was afoot and that the gal with a personal vendetta against me would strike swiftly and mercilessly. Sure enough, while out on the playground one winter day, Donna, aka the pint-sized tattletale from hell, sidled up to me and asked that I pick up some snow from the ground. Not seeing where this was going and being the picture of naïveté and innocence, I meekly complied. Quick as a wink, this traitorous miniature harridan streaked over to the nearest teacher and loudly and sanctimoniously informed her I was throwing snowballs! LIES, FILTHY LIES!!! Sure enough, there I stood, dazed and confused, cradling the critical ingredient necessary for snowball manufacturing in my unmindful, mittened fingers. Yes, gang, circumstantial evidence was found in my possession and felony charges were brought against a blameless child. I was immediately sentenced to the principal’s office for flagrance disobedience to do penance for this grievous crime. I sat out the rest of recess tearful and disbelieving, a sadder, wiser view of my conniving fellowman. I’ll never know what prompted that unprovoked attack of yesteryear, but I’m a firm believer that what goes around, comes around so I have no doubt whatsoever there were equivalent psychic paybacks for her further down the road called Life.