I bet you wished you were here in Minnesota, bundling your kids to the point of unrecognizable and then cramming them in and out of car seats for trips to Target, the grocery store, pre-school drop-off, etc., etc.), trying to find activities that keep you from going all Jack Torrance and helping them discover the joys of winter wonderland play that doesn't involve a flask.
Oh how you must dream of the days when it took 14 and a half minutes to undress your children after they came in from the great white outdoors, how slush and puddles and piles of damp clothing would accumulate into a newly formed mountain range, right in your very own entryway. How you would gingerly step from ruddy cheeked child to ruddy cheeked child, wiping noses and inevitably landing your sock in one of the wet pools of melting snow...how you must long for that. As you sip umbrella drinks from patio chairs and watch your darlings, clad in bathing suits, run through the sprinklers in the warm embrace of Texas.
All I can say is that I'm sorry for you, sorry for your suffering, your non-arthritis joints, your dewy, moisturized skin with nary a crack or dry patch. You have my sympathy. It's a beautiful 8 degrees here today, jealous?
Hugs to you and the kids, tell the grass we said hi. Mel, Pete, Clara and Lu
