Frosty the Teenager originally appeared in the December, 2021 issue of The Writing Shorts Newsletter.
Frosty the Teenager
“I still can’t believe someone donated that,” Mona said.
“It’s a Christmas miracle,” sighed Alison.
The girls watched as Tommy placed the old silk hat they’d found on top of the snowman.
First, the lump-of-coal eyes blinked. Then, the half-carrot nose twitched. Finally, the tree-branch arms stretched overhead before one twiggy hand hovered over the line-of-stones mouth, as though covering a yawn. Reflexively, all three children yawned back.
“Who are you?” the snowman asked, arching the snow that drooped over one ebony eye.
“We’re your new friends,” Tommy said. “We made you.”
“So, which one of you is responsible for this?” The snowman threw his twig hands downward.
The children exchanged glances and shrugs. “Responsible for what?” asked Tommy.
“My legs, duh,” replied the snowman, sending both snowbrows up this time. “Or, rather, my lack thereof. I’ve got no feet, either, just this gigantic ball of snow that’s frozen to the ground. Where are my boots?”
Mona frowned. “Boots? Were boots in the recipe?”
Alison shook her head. “I don’t remember boots being mentioned in the song. Eyes of coal? Yes. Button nose? Well, we took liberties there, I suppose, but -”
“Can’t you two stop your yammering and just go find me a pair?” The snowman interrupted.
“Listen here,” Tommy said, shaking a gloved finger at the snowman. “If it weren’t for us, you wouldn’t even be alive, so, I think you owe us a bit of respect.”
“I didn’t ask to be made!” the snowman’s branch arms bent and the twig hands rested on his bottom orb.
“No, but you did ask for boots, and you were quite nasty about it.” Mona said. “Frankly, I’m sorry we created you.”
“Me too,” agreed Alison. “Let’s go home and get your dog. I’m sure he’s ready for a nice long piddle.”
“Oh yes, and Frenchie is especially partial to snowmen.”
“Okay, okay,” the snowman said. “I’ll be nicer. I promise. Just, make me some legs and I’ll thumpity-thump-thump wherever you want.”
“Say the magic word,” Tommy said.
“Oh, fine,” the snowman huffed, branch arms falling to his sides. “Please.”