Why It’s a Bad Idea to Throw a Snowball At Your Great Aunt Hildegarde: A Short Story

Five whole days is too long to spend in the company of a crabby old lady. Especially if the crabby old lady is your Great Aunt Hildegarde, and you are expected to behave decently to her. 

For five entire days, these were the rules that Emery was expected to follow.

1. No running indoors.
2. No pretending to be a buffalo stampede on the stairs. 
3. Absolutely no throwing snowballs within a fifty-foot-radius of Great Aunt Hildegarde.

This last rule was the worst of all, having been created after a blizzard blessed Indiana with its sparkling glory. 

One bright February morning, Emery stood in the snow, feeling grumpy. Her cheeks were red, her coat was sopping, and she felt grumpy because Great Aunt Hildegarde had come outside. Hildegarde wore her fur coat, the one Emery hated because it was made of rabbits. Hildegard also wore a knit scarf and a hat with ear flaps. 

“Hello, dearie,” Hildegarde croaked, dusting the snow off of a chair and sitting on it. “Put your scarf on, it’s awful cold.”

Emery was about to give up and go indoors, when something caught her eye. Then her disappointment left and was replaced by glee, because the thing that she had seen was Drake, a neighbor boy who had thrown a snowball at Emery just yesterday. She hadn’t been able to get her revenge then, but now she could.

She made a snowball… aimed… fired. 

Then she was positively horrified, because the snowball had hit the back of Great Aunt Hildegarde’s head. 

Emery watched in utter silence as Hildegarde turned around and looked at her. 

Then, Emery received a great shock. Great Aunt Hildegarde reached down into the snow, made a snowball, and threw it at Emery, hitting her square in the face. 

“Ha!” Hildegarde chortled, smiling. “Take that!”