He just showed up out of nowhere, all prim and proper with his top-hat and button-up. She tried to style with her tux, but the waddling and flops don’t quite work for that. He says it’s endearing. Still, her wings can’t straighten the mess of hair atop her head, and well no one ever offered her a hat like his. Of course, penguins can’t love snowmen.
Snowmen are around people and well, penguins can’t do people. The crowds, the laughter, the cheeriness when all penguins do is squawk. People make her shudder. So penguins stay far away – far away from people and cheer and snowmen. No, penguins can’t love snowmen.
Funny thing about penguins – they’re a flight risk. Just waiting for the snow to melt, to leave them out in the heat suffocating and sweltering and the people stand around and gawk at penguin bumbling. “Perform for us, penguin, do your silly way.”
Maybe being with a snowman, there’s always a little bit of winter around. And yet penguins can’t love snowmen.
His carefully crafted smile is worth measures of penguin attempts where beaks can’t turn upward. He props his hat on her head, and it doesn’t quite fit, but maybe that’s just how it should fit – off-kilter is the penguin way, right? Her waddles forward are okay when paired with a snowman that can roll with the punches. But penguins can’t love snowmen.
She asks if he’ll ever melt.
She asks if she can waddle slowly and he’ll take his time as if it’s a natural pace.
He says the snow will stick for “another 3000 weeks, at least.”
He says 3000 weeks is enough time for some waddling about.
The funny thing about snowmen is maybe they’re as real as penguins. And I’m not quite sure why penguins can’t just love snowmen.