HE GOT HIS HEAD KICKED IN

So about the story with the snowman.  Many, many years ago.  Some time in the 70's you know when snow was in industrial amounts.  I built my self a snowman.  From one small snowball.  I so happily rolled it up the street, down the street.  Back up the street.  It just went on and on like that, until the snowman's body was built.  Did the same for the head. I had frozen feet and soggy gloves.  But I had a snowman in our front garden.  That was such a fabulous Saturday afternoon.  Sunday morning had arrived no different from any other Sunday.  I opened the living room curtains.  What do you know my snowman had moved and was looking right at me.  It was all bashed and battered and not really looking much like the snowman I built that Saturday afternoon.  Or even in the same place.  More snow had laid throughout the night so the garden had a blanket of snow but you could see the trail the snowman had left no foot prints nothing the bloody thing had moved. You see what happened that Saturday evening all the other snowmen and mine got their heads kicked in.  Not sure if a fight broke out between them.  Or it was horrible youths just decided to kick the snowmen's heads in.  I really have no idea. That Sunday morning was magical to a 7 year old and that 7 year old was me.  I found out later on that my Dad and Sister rebuilt the snowman and knowing how daft and gullible I was knew it would be funny to re build it and move it.  I have dedicated a card to the story that will hopefully be posted tomorrow.