SNOW DAY, by Lynn Plourde, illustrated by Hideko Takahashi, Simon & Schuster, New York, 2001, $16.

I sure hope it snows.

In February, I’m equally sure I’ll regret that. But after reading Winthrop author Lynn Plourde’s “Snow Day” to my 2-year-old son, Elliot, for the umpteenth time last night, I’m even looking forward (just a little) to picking up that snow shovel that’s been hanging in the shed since March.

A comfortable and caring tale of a pleasantly snowbound family and their day at home, “Snow Day” is a fun story to read to your little one at bedtime on a dark winter night – flakes or no flakes.

Opening with the excitement we all felt when school was canceled for the day, and ending with the exhaustion that only comes with building a snow fort, the book was a nice reminder of how much fun it was to be a kid with a sled and a cup of hot chocolate waiting inside.

Plourde’s simple but imaginative poetry sets the mood throughout the story, early on at the family breakfast where “Plumpy pumpkin muffins change butter chunks to butter ch-m-m-melts,” and later at dinner with “Kit and caboodle stew. Fluffy, flaky biscuits, too.”

Los Angeles illustrator Hideko Takahashi has obviously had her share of snow days despite her current connection to the balmy West Coast. The bundled, round-faced brother and sister in the story “Stomp, clomp indoors” with their wet boots and flushed faces, trailed by a straggling dad holding his shovel low as the sun sets over the neighborhood.

Takahashi’s acrylic paintings are at times bright and bold with the girl’s rainbow scarf and orange jacket set against the blinding white snow. When it’s time for hot soup before bed, though, the tones dim with the firelight and the deep green blankets.

But it’s the picture of the smiling siblings sledding with friends that catches my toddler’s attention every time we read it (and it tends to one of the most requested from his bookshelf these days.) Without fail, the picture immediately prompts a request to go outside, never mind the fact that bedtime’s in 10 minutes and last week’s dusting of snow has long left the yard.

Just a few pages later, however, when the worn-out brother and sister are getting out of the tub in and into their “flannels with footies,” Elliot’s about ready too.

“Just like me? Just like me?” he asks, pointing to his own favorite blue pajamas. (He says everything at least twice.)

There are certain books he wants to read twice, too.

“Snow Day” is one.

And, unlike some other books (you parents know what I mean), I don’t mind.

Plourde’s family’s day is a welcome reminder that a snowy forecast needn’t only be the harbinger of slippery roads, backbreaking shoveling and wet socks.

So maybe the next time it snows (if ever), instead of rushing out in the morning to clear the driveway, Elliot and I will build a snowman or something first.

And, later, instead of cursing the snowplow driver as he blocks my driveway for the second time, I’ll wave and smile like the father in the book.

If only it would snow, that is.

I can’t believe I said it again.