We only lasted about 5 minutes before the wild child had enough. The dancing dog was no longer amusing her, and her brother was about ready to clock her on the head. Even the trees were shaking what little snow they had left on their limbs, to fall upon her small head, hoping to silence the squawk box.















The snow knocked her over, and her brother wasn't about to help the wild child in her power tantrum. As he gazed on with a quiet delight over her compromised position, her true knight in shining rubber boots came to the rescue and saved little miss muffett from her snowy demise.

Good thing for Daddy, 'cause I would'a just kept snapping pictures.