My Two Writing Teachers colleagues and I are hosting the 15th Annual March Slice of Life Story Challenge, in which teachers from around the world participate by posting a story per day.

The wind howled as I pulled open the frozen door of the yurt. Although I was bundled in every kind of ski layer - wool base layers, fleece layers, down layers, neck warmers, helmet, goggles, ski boots - I was frozen to the bone.

I stomped my way into the yurt, and made my way over to the table where my two kids were already warming up by the fireplace. A group of men in their sixties and seventies was at another table putting on their boots and chatting.

As I started to take off my mittens I became aware that one of them was talking to me. “I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you with my helmet and all my layers covering my head,” I said, and I pulled off my helmet.

“Oh I was just asking these young people for the snow report!” said one of the men. I recognized him - I had seen him around the mountain over the years.

Jackson, my eight-year-old, piped up. “Oh! It’s pretty wind scoured up there! It’s dust on crust. Pretty bullet proof. The wind is gusting.”

We all chuckled, hearing Jackson’s squeaky little voice rattle off the weather report the way a seasoned ski reporter might.

“Don’t forget your hand warmers!” Jackson added.