“That’s it?” Angelica looked down at the ground doubtfully.

“Yes,” Bette said patiently. “This is snow. I told you what it was like, and you’ve learned about it in school.”

Angelica looked up at Bette with a faint suspicion. “You told me it didn’t snow here. You said it never snowed.”

“I know I did. The weather has been crazy lately. It’s snowing everywhere. Even here in sunny LA.”

“Why?”

“Well, we adults haven’t taken very good care of the earth. We have hurt the environment, and as a result, the earth is getting hotter.”

“So why did it snow?”

Bette knelt down and scooped up the white dusting on the ground and packed it into Angie’s gloved palm. “Here, have a snowball,” Bette said by way of changing the subject. She didn’t want to launch into a complicated climate change discussion with a 7 year old. Especially when she didn’t understand it all that well herself.

Angie looked doubtfully at the snowball in her hand and back at Bette.

“You’re supposed to throw it,” Bette said brightly.

“At what?”

Bette smiled with exaggerated patience. “At people. At me. But only if they don’t mind,” Bette cautioned, and then wondered why she was teaching Angelica snowball etiquette.

“Why would anyone want to be hit with a snowball?”

“Possibly because it’s more fun to toss them back and forth than it is to ask silly questions.” Bette grabbed a handful of snow and playfully blew a few flakes at Angie’s face. The little girl giggled.

“Go on, hit me!” Bette said.

Angelica paused, then lobbed the snowball at Bette, who pretended to be mortally wounded before collapsing dramatically onto the ground. Angie laughed and took advantage of Bette’s position two drop two handfuls of snow onto Bette’s face, which served to revive her instantly.

“Hey!” Bette scrambled to her feet and Angie ran a few steps away before picking up another handful of snow, hastily packing it and lobbing it at Bette.

“I’m gonna get you!” Bette cried, chasing Angie around the yard and letting Angie “win” the snowball fight.

Bette noticed Angie’s nose was red, and decided it was time to go in. “Come on, Ang. I’ll make you some cocoa.”

They made a show of stomping the snow off their boots at the doorway before going into the house. Bette carefully disentangled Angie out of her scarf, mittens, and a heavy coat that was a mite too small because it had been bought well over a year ago, and had never been used.