This morning I drove Sean across the river to Ryerson Heights School where he is volunteering for the day with the Scouts Kub Kar Rally. Courtesy of the prolonged frigid temperatures we have been
blessed cursed with, our river appears to be frozen solid. This is witnessed by the abundance of snowmobile tracks criss-crossing the river.
Sean: Why would there be snowmobile tracks on the river? Wouldn’t that be dangerous?
Me: It must be frozen pretty solid. Actually, if I remember correctly, one of your father’s cousins lost his life driving his snowmobile out onto a frozen lake that wasn’t quite as frozen as he’d thought. (out of consideration for the family of the deceased, I omitted to tell Sean that said cousin had been rip roaring drunk at the time, so the story goes.)
Sean: *ponders a moment then calmly and seriously proclaims* Well, every time I walk along there going to school I keep looking for a hole, but haven’t seen one yet.