It did not snow on Christmas day this year, but I think December 26th should count when one is dreaming of a white Christmas. When Catcher woke up and looked out the window that morning, "Mommy! Look at the snows!" was the first thing out of his mouth. Although I lived in New York City for six years--where the average December temperature hovers around the freezing point--I've never been much of a winter sports kind of girl. That includes playing in the snow. But this year something came over me. Perhaps I was still buzzed from the Bloody Mary Christmas the day before or maybe watching Elf on Christmas Eve had inspired me to take a step back and enjoy life through the eyes of a child, but either way I was genuinely excited to take the kids out and play in the snow.
My cleaning prowess (or is it OCD?) has been passed down to Catcher. When he saw me take the broom out of the closet to dust the snow off our car, he cheered with excitement: "I clean the car! I clean the car!"
Scout wants to know if her feet look big in these boots.
The only thing missing from the afternoon was a roaring fire and hot chocolate waiting for us inside.
No comments:
Post a Comment