Things We Learned About Olaf

Hello, my name is Elsa. This is the first time my sister and I have shared a journal entry. Until now, we've kept record separately, dwelling on our own thoughts of our lives after the Great Freeze. We have yet to read what we had written about each other, though. I tried many times to sneak a peek at what Anna had written about Kristoff. Unfortunately my attempts have thus far been unsuccessful, and will probably stay that way for quite a while.

Hi, I'm Anna! Ooh, this is going to be so much fun. I feel like we're schoolgirls passing notes. In a way, that's true. I think this journal's going to go through a lot of wear and tear from being passed between us so many times.

I think so, too. I'm supposed to be attending to my queenly duties, but I assure you that this will be a lot more enjoyable. I've been getting tired of rebutting letters of flattery from the Duke of Weselton. Oh...and I still have to respond to the formal letter of apology from the king of the Southern Isles. He's more than embarrassed at having to deal with his troublesome little brother, and I can only pity him. Fortunately Anna and I share a much more healthy relationship.

We do! True love saved both of us. We wouldn't be here, together and happy, if Elsa and I hadn't been there for each other. Anyway, it was my idea that we write about Olaf together. We've always built him together, ever since we were little girls capering in the empty throne roon. It's only right that we also write about him as a team. Life is just beginning for our lovable little snowman after the Great Freeze.

He fascinates us just as everything in the world fascinates him. Olaf is quite the character. Once people stop freaking out over a talking snowman, they absolutely love him. Though I had brought him to life, Olaf is imbued with many delightful quirks and a personality of his own. His buoyant love and happiness for everyone and everything is an inspiration to us all. Writing about Olaf will be nothing but lots of fun.

What was that you said, Elsa? Do you want to write about a snowman?

Of course I do! How could I say no?

Elsa, let's do the thing.

What thing...? Oh, right. We present to you...

The things we learned about Olaf! (Finishing each other's sentences because we're sisters...I've always wanted to do that.)


Olaf would always be grateful for Elsa's little gift to him, but calling it his "personal flurry" all the time can be tiresome and a mouthful for him. Olaf figured that it needed a proper name. Soon enough, he took care of that problem.

Not surprisingly, he called it "Cotton." That was the first thing that came to his mind, and it stuck. Cotton isn't a sentient being like Olaf, but the little snowman treats it like a puppy that always follows him around.


Hamlet is his favorite Shakespeare play, possibly his favorite play of all, for this very reason: Olaf loves reciting Hamlet's monologue. Yes, it's that famous soliloquy that starts out with "To be or not to be, that is the question."

Being able to detach his head had its own benefits. Olaf's other favorite part is removing his head in the act of Hamlet uncovering a skull from a burial ground. Then he would gasp in melodramatic fashion: "Alas, Yorick...I knew him well."

What's funny is that Olaf is far from being the overly self-conscious and angst-ridden man that is Hamlet. If you ask me, he wouldn't be the right choice for the character. He's just too cheery and happy to act as Hamlet. Still, it's fun to see him detach his head and recite the lines. Apart from his favorite play, Olaf prefers to enjoy comedies over tragedies. He loves whacky characters and happy endings. He likes to think that what had happened to me and Anna could have ended up as a tragedy, but ended as a comedy: a story with a happy ending.


Imagine how mortified we were when a very thirsty Sven couldn't resist and took a bite out of him. The reindeer robbed Olaf of a good part of his belly, which had been soaked with fruit juice he accidentally spilled. As if we weren't shocked enough, Elsa and I were totally aghast as Kristoff reprimanded Sven about not sharing. He took a bite as well. He even said it tasted good!

Applying the same method on regular snow, and by scooping it into servable amounts on conical paper holders, Kristoff practically invented snow cones. They sold almost as well as his ice business. It took him a long time to convince us of trying, though.


Olaf is content with sitting by the pond and gazing at the fish for hours on end. He likes feeding them with bread crumbs, smiling and giggling as he'd watch the fish snap them up in their big wide mouths. He finds it sad that they aren't able to walk and breathe on land so he could play with them.

He's seriously thinking of starting a campaign to "free the fish," complete with hand-made signs and drawings of smiling fish walking with two legs. We understand that the sweet little guy has nothing but good intentions, but it'll take us some patience explaining to him that his campaign isn't possible.


I still remember that moment after Kristoff and I had narrowly escaped Marshmallow, that moment when Olaf said right out of the blue: "I don't have a skull. Or bones." It seems that Olaf is fascinated with his lack of them just as he is with living beings that have them.
Having no bones in his body at all, he can't decide what's weirder: an exoskeleton or an endoskeleton. Olaf thinks it's strange that we humans have our bones buried under muscles and skin, when bones "ought to be the first thing protecting us." The little things we do without thinking capture his great interest. He's always asking me and Anna how we know when to absorb nutrients after we eat, or how to breathe, or how we heal when we get hurt. And every time, we respond by telling him that we don't even have to think about doing them; it's just something our bodies do all the time.

This indescribable "body magic" we possess never ceases to amaze him. I think it's cute how he is so easily impressed by little things, and asks a lot of questions to fill his snow head full of eye-wide knowledge.


Olaf will never know what it's like to get chaffed, red skin that peels and itches when it's dry, or burns when it...well, burns all the time.

What he doesn't have or can't experience leads him to the notion of wanting such a thing, though I often insist to Olaf that he's better off not knowing what a sunburn felt like. When I get toasted under the sun, I show him how they don't look or feel good at all. Something not fun certainly won't mix well with a fun snowman like Olaf.


Are you familiar with the saying "Stop and smell the roses"? Olaf is quite familiar with it. In fact, he takes it literally. The little snowman loves taking the time to admire the beauty and scent of flowers. At the beginning of his life, all he had seen was white during the winter Elsa had accidentally caused. Seeing flowers for the first time must've been such a wonderful explosion of color for him. He even likes the green weeds, and could spend hours blowing gently on dandelions and watch them float away. More often than not, smelling the flowers makes him sneeze and lose his nose. He had a particularly hard time finding it when he sneezed in a carrot garden. I once suggested that he hold onto his nose whenever he sneezed. He tried to do that...but his head came right off! Elsa and I thought we were gonna laugh our own heads off.

Shortly after the Great Freeze, Olaf invited me to accompany him on a picnic and a nice stroll under the sun. I strongly suspect that Anna was behind it; Olaf expressed concern over how I'd spend hours being occupied in my study. It wasn't until then, that for all my years of growing up surrounded by Arendelle's crest in everything from plates and banners to walls and even a rocking horse I once played with as a little girl, I never actually saw a real crocus before. For a time Olaf and I simply laid there, with the grass at our backs and the yellow flowers and blue sky before us. In a rare show of keeping silent, Olaf let me lie still in content and peace. What surrounded us, the natural beauty of my own kingdom, made for a memorable sight. Of course, I heartily thanked Olaf for letting me enjoy a break I didn't know I needed. He taught me that it didn't hurt to slow down and relax once in a while.


Elsa has to patch him up every time. Olaf can't digest anything, so the soup has nowhere to go but sit in his belly. He would often turn a curious shade of yellow or brown, depending on the kind of broth.

Then it would leak out from under him, as if he, excreting a certain bodily fluid. I'm not sure if he's able to actually taste anything, but I think he just likes the warmth of soup or hot chocolate. Olaf still loves warm hugs the best.


Carrots don't last forever. A rotting carrot for a nose won't look or smell appealing at all. Out of curiosity and boredom, he tries on different kinds of fruits and vegetables, to see if any of them would be viable replacements.

When he tried on a baby eggplant, he looked like he had a bruised nose. He liked the shape of the banana, but not the color. (Yellow is his least favorite color.) He did like green very much, but the asparagus just looked too strange on him.


I was still learning from Elsa how to ice-skate properly. I always liked to practice in the solitude of Elsa's ice palace, despite the long, rough climb to get there. If I fell, I didn't have anyone else to see me. And boy, I still fell a lot. One time I tried to catch the rail with my hand as I fell. I missed and I hit my head instead. Upon seeing me, Olaf was a melting puddle despite the personal flurry still over his head. I pressed a palm against my temple, and my mitten came back stained with blood. Poor Elsa frantically worried over us; both Olaf and I were a mess.

Truth be told, the cut wasn't all that deep. But wounds to the head tended to bleed copiously. Thankfully Anna was still conscious and the bleeding didn't last very long. In the end, it was only a minor concussion. I had nothing around to properly patch up her wound, so I had to make do with pressing slushy snow against her head. When she came to, I asked her who I was, just to make sure.

And I told her she was the best big sister in the whole wide world. Just as Olaf seemed to get over his fainting episode he nearly melted again, this time out of being touched by the bond Elsa and I shared.


Olaf unintentionally scares a lot of people this way. Every time he does this to me I always get scared out of my boots and fall over on him, promptly squishing him into a semi-viscous puddle. It can't be helped that his friendly nature coupled with his inability to jump terribly high.

I too get startled quite badly, which is why it's very fortunate that Olaf tended to spring on me when no one was around. The ice I inadvertedly shoot from my hands, and make star-like bursts on the ground, often become works of art suitably deemed as "happy accidents." Olaf knew this would happen, and always admired what I could do. I liked that he was sensitive and considerate enough to tackle hug me with no one around, so I won't be inflicting any more frozen hearts.


Olaf just loves to hug anyone and anything. He takes joy in hugging small animals and cuddling them, but more often than not they can't stand the cold and would just run away. He has a particularly soft spot for stray animals. He cares for dogs and cats that have been lost, abandoned or abused. He keeps himself at a distance; since they're so vulnerable, he knows better than to have his cold body close to them. So far only Sven's used to his chilly hugs.

HE LOVES ASKING FOR PEOPLE'S NAMES (and forgets them later).

In one ear and out the other. That's how I'd describe him. It doesn't help that here in Arendelle, and all of Norway, everyone's last name either ends in "-son" or "-dottir." Olaf is very social and likes to talk to people, but for the life of him he forgets the names of people he befriended in a matter of minutes. Not on purpose, of course.

I think it's only because he meets with so many people on a daily basis. It can't be helped that the poor little guy forgets. Fortunately, most people are kind enough to remind him. But when it comes to Kristoff, he can only be patient and tolerable for so long. Olaf still has trouble with calling him by his correct name instead of Sven.

It's no secret how much Anna and I love Olaf, with all his quirks and maybe a few flaws. He still has much to learn about the world, and it takes some time for us to guide him.

It's up to me, Elsa and Kristoff to push him in the right direction, though sometimes I feel that Kristoff can push him too hard. I can only imagine what it'd be like when we'll get to the point of discussing the birds and bees with Olaf.

Elsa and I are in no rush to marry and have kids. We're already having the time of our lives raising one.