swing

"Don't you ever feel like swinging on the swingset is a metaphor for life?" Baby asked, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "You swing back and forth, and it's fun," he drew on, his sarcasm sprinkled with the slightest hint of pathos. "In the end, though, you never get anywhere. Daddy gives you a push to get going, but no matter how many times he pushes you, you just end up right back in the same damn place that you started."

This kid feels the same way.

Even snowkids.