Author's Note: Here's a little Christmas drabble for you! I don't own Corpse Bride or its characters, and I give full credit for inspiration for this one to the artist behind the Tumblr "Flapdoodling." She drew a little sketch of my OC's building a snowman, wearing Nell's hat. You can find her brilliant work here: flapdoodleing. tumblr. com. Merry Christmas, all!

The Snowman

"There!" said Lydia proudly, wiping at her damp forehead with one mittened hand. In the middle of the back lawn now stood a snowball almost as tall as she was. It was nearly taller than Catherine and Anne, who were helpfully packing more snow into the sparser places. And it absolutely towered over Mary, who was only two. Mother had bundled her up with layers of sweaters and a little hat, such that she had limited movement and kept falling over in the deep snow.

"This is enormous! The biggest snowball we've ever made!" said Catherine happily. Her round cheeks were quite pink from the cold, and bits of snow speckled the fur trim on her coat. Mary clapped and laughed from her seat in a snowdrift. Shakily she managed to get to her little feet, with a hand from Anne. All four of them stood and admired their work.

The snowball challenge was their new game this winter. It had snowed quite more than normal, beginning in late October. Nearly once a week yet another snowstorm blew in, dumping yet more snow on the lawn and garden and roof. Now it was the middle of December, and there was more snow on the ground than any of the children had seen before. Several smaller enormous snowballs littered the lawn, the work of snow days past. Father had shown them how to start a snowball, and then how to roll it about so that it collected yet more snow. Now snowball rolling was their new favorite game. Each time they went out they were determined to break their previous size records.

Catherine was right. This was the best one yet. By the time they were done Lydia had needed all three of them to help push it the last few feet. Anne smiled and patted a crumbling bit of snow back into place.

"Let's make it a snowman!" Anne suggested. Liddie and Catherine quickly agreed.

"Go get that medium snowball," Liddie directed, pointing at one that they'd abandoned last week. "That'll be the rest of the body. I'll start rolling a head."

Together Catherine and Anne managed to pry the partially frozen snowball from the ground. They carried it back to Liddie, plucked off the bits of dirt and sticks, and handed it over. As the tallest, it was Lydia's job to hoist the rest of the snowman into place. She carefully shaped the ball for the head, and then, on tiptoe, put it into place.

"Arms!" cried Catherine, and puffed her way through the deep snow to the bare shrubs around the edge of the garden. She came back bearing two skinny twigs with branches that sort of looked like hands if you squinted. Liddie allowed her the honor of putting them in place.

"Buttons for the front!" said Liddie, and knelt down in the snow next to Mary to dig about for stones. Mary, not quite sure what was going on, copied her older sister and dug about in the drifts with her little hands. She was so tiny she didn't have to bend. At last Liddie came up with two little rocks, each fairly smooth and round, which had probably traveled from the driveway when Mr. Reed moved snow about. These she put on the snowman's front.

"What about a face?" said Anne. Her sisters nodded. Carefully, Liddie reached up and dug out two little circles for eyes, made a dot for a nose, and then carved out a snowy grin.

All the girls stepped back to admire their handiwork. Their breath made little puffs of white in the cold air. Anne, whose toes and ears were starting to numb, looked over her shoulder at the house. Surely it must be safe to go back in. Grandmamma must be getting ready to leave by now. She'd come by for tea and had ensconced herself in the parlor with Mother and Father. The girls had been trooped in to say hello to their grandmother. Mother had swiftly taken pity on them and allowed them to play outside while the grown-ups visited.

"Grandmamma," said Mary clearly. They all turned to look at her. Mary, up to her knees in snowdrift, was gazing up at the snowman with a twinkle in her eye. Liddie caught her by the collar when she started to wobble.

"You're right!" Lydia laughed, hauling her little sister out of the snow and placing her on clearer ground closer to the snowman. "It does look like Grandmamma."

Catherine giggled. "Maybe a little slimmer than Grandmamma," she said naughtily, elbowing Anne. Anne grinned, but glanced over her shoulder at the house again, as if their grandmother might have heard them.

"Wait though, needs something," said Liddie critically. Grinning a wicked little grin she took off her mitten and reached up to the snow-Grandmamma's face. Quickly the smile was turned into a severe frown, and angry eyebrows added above the eyes. Lydia wiped the snow from her hand and put her mitten back on, still grinning.

Catherine practically collapsed in giggles, and Mary copied her. Anne, finally getting into the fun and contagious sense of mischief, said, "It needs a hat."

All four of them shared a conspiratorial look as the same idea occurred to them at once.

0-0

With her sisters waiting outside, Anne snuck through the back hall and into the entry. Since the hat had been her idea, she had been volunteered for the mission. It was logic Anne couldn't argue with, though she regretted having mentioned it. She didn't like to sneak or play pranks. But she did like making her sisters happy.

So down the hall she crept, aware she was leaving wet footprints from her boots. The house was warm and she was sweating beneath her scarf. From the parlor she could hear Grandmamma talking, along with the occasional rattle and clink of tea things. Grandmamma's hat, befeathered and beribboned and a shocking shade of green, sat like a queen atop the hatrack near the front door. Slowly, carefully, she eased up to the parlor doorway to make sure the adults were occupied.

Grandmamma, on the sofa, had her back to the door. Phew, thought Anne. Mother was beside her. Even without seeing her face Anne imagined she knew her expression-a mask of careful politeness and attention. Only Father was facing the door. And at that moment he looked up and noticed Anne in the doorway.

They made eye contact before Anne ducked out of sight. After a pause she peered around the doorframe to find Father still looking at her, a quizzical expression on his face. She gave what she hoped was an apologetic sort of glance in reply, and then began to slink low past the doorway. All the time she could feel her father's eyes on her back. When she was clear of the parlor she sighed with relief, and, quick as she could, reached up on her tippytoes to grab Grandmamma's hat. Not willing to risk another trip past the adults, Anne let herself out the front door and tried to close it quietly behind her.

With the delightful feeling that she'd gotten away with something huge, Anne tripped down the porch and off to the backyard where her sisters waited. Proudly she held out the hat.

"Well done you!" said Catherine, and Liddie nodded. Mary hugged Anne about the knees. With much ceremony Liddie placed the hat upon the snow-Grandmamma's head, and the picture was complete.

"Perfect!" Lydia said, hands on hips. "Looks just like her!"

As her sisters giggled, Lydia stepped behind the snow-grandmother. The snowball was so big and tall she disappeared behind it.

"Catherine Van Dort, your hat clashes with your shoes!" Liddie scolded in a perfect fishwife accent from behind the snowman. "And Anne, you clumsy thing, where are your mittens?" Lydia waved the snow-woman's stick arms about as Anne and Catherine choked on their giggles.

"I'd complain about the baby but I don't know anything about her!" Liddie continued. Mary was clapping with glee down in the snow.

"Where's that oldest one?" said snow-Grandmamma, arms still flailing. "Too smart for her own good, and much too skinny! I-ooops."

One of snow-Grandmamma's arms had snapped off. Catherine exploded with laughter, tears streaming down her face. Mary pressed her little mittened hands to her mouth. Lydia stepped out from behind the snowman, grinning widely. Her grin swiftly faltered, however, as a shadow fell over them. Anne and Catherine, catching her expression, turned to look.

It was Father. He'd crept up on them in all the hilarity. Now he stood, in his overshoes and coat, arms crossed. Anne swallowed and Lydia hid the snapped-off branch behind her back. Only Mary was still giggling. She waddled her way over to Father through the snow and latched onto his leg.

"Grandmamma!" she told him, pointing at the snowman. Father reached to pick her up.

"I see," he said mildly, hoisting Mary into the crook of one arm. With the other he reached over and plucked the hat from the snow-grandmother's head.

"We were going to give it back," Liddie said hastily. "We were just borrowing it."

Father just gave her a look. Then he turned the look on each of them in turn. He shook the hat to get the snow off, and gave a quick glance at the parlor window.

"That was very wrong of you, girls, very wrong," Father said, more loudly than he had to. The sisters looked at one another, wondering if some sort of punishment for hat theft was imminent. Anne was bound to get the worst, as she'd been the thief. She felt her cheeks coloring.

But Father turned back to them, and, to their delight, winked. "Spot-on impression, Liddie," he said in a low voice, and Lydia beamed. He took another glance at the house.

"I'd go in the back door if I were you three, though," he told them. "Perhaps stay in the kitchen for a bit." Then, Mary and Grandmamma's hat in hand, Father turned and slogged his way through the snow back to the house.

Lydia, Catherine and Anne shared grins, pleased to not be in trouble. One by one, laughing, they curtseyed to the snow-grandmother, and then made for the kitchen door through the deep snow.

The End!