When the first snow of the year hit Broadchurch, it hit hard. Really hard. Frankly, it was rather odd, considering that coastal towns weren't meant to get more snow than those further inland. However, did you and the other children of Broadchurch care that the weather was behaving weirdly?

Not even a little. School was canceled, and that was what was important to you. You got to sleep in, buried in warm, fluffy bedding and wrapped in soft jammies. You got to get up and eat breakfast at your leisure, make yourself some hot chocolate in the microwave, watch cartoons at breakfast time, and best of all, your dad was home! Not only did the snow make it impossible for him to safely get to work, but he couldn't very well leave his child at home, especially when the power could very well go out.

So when you rolled on up to your father and begged to make a snowman, what choice did he have but to say yes?

He did insist that you bundle up, though. In everything. Snowpants, coat, hat, scarf, mittens, and countless layers underneath. The last thing he needed was a frostbitten child at a time when getting to the hospital would be difficult.

All that to say that when you bounded down the stairs, looking like the kid from A Christmas Story, your dad was perfectly happy to see you'd taken his instructions to heart.

"So, kiddo, are ye ready to go outside? Got yer boots?"