What Are They Going to Do With All That Snow?

I grew up in Ohio. We had plenty of snow in winter. When the snow plows came through, the snow would be piled up high on both sides of the road. Sometimes four to five feet or higher. It's enough to make a child ask "What are they going to do with all that snow?"

"They're going to burn it" said Mom.

I was about six and at that age, my mother spoke nothing but gospel truth. It seemed reasonable to me. That's what you did with stuff you didn't want. I'd never seen a pile of snow on fire, but we lived inside the city limits and you couldn't burn trash or leaves so why would snow be any different? So when a neighbor's mom was driving us home from school and Sharon asked "What are they going to do with all that snow?" -  I had the answer.

"They're going to burn it." I said.

"Who told you that?" Sharon's mom demanded.

"My mom."

"You can't burn snow. Your mother is full of shit."

I knew that wasn't a nice word. Saying that would be even worse than saying "shut up" at our house. So it was a good thing we were almost home because I didn't want to listen to Sharon's mom talk like that and I really wasn't assertive enough to ask to get out and walk the rest of the way. But I was fairly sure that if anybody was full of anything it was her, not my mom. But I said nothing. I got out of the car in their driveway and walked the rest of the way to my house.

I was sure to let Mom know what Sharon's mother said when I got home. Mom didn't seem too upset. I don't think she ever thought very much of Sharon's mom, anyway. But she did not admit that you actually can't set fire to snow. Perhaps she meant that the sun would burn it, much the way it burns off mist and fog. That's almost certainly what she meant.