We don’t get much snow down here in paradise. In the dead of winter it sometimes drops into the fifties and I have to go find one of those jacket-things in the closet. Up until the past couple of weeks, Swee’Pea was wearing dresses every day and TheMonk was wearing shorts and sandals. When we started putting pants on them this month they both did not like the feeling of cloth on leg. They begged for their shorts and dresses but I held firm. It’s my responsibility as a parent to protect my children from the inevitable frostbite that 68 degree weather will bring.
But last week we ventured far from paradise and ended up in Colorado. We spent the week with in-laws, cousins, clergy and other miscreants and had a really nice time. The kids, in spite of their protests, wore pants every day and actually learned how to zip up a jacket. It got downright cold that week and when it gets cold in Colorado, snow can’t be far behind.
So while visiting cousins, we noticed it was snowing. The kids got excited and after a quick lunch they ran outside to catch snowflakes on their tongue.
After ingesting quite a bit of the white powder wafting down from the heavens (it didn’t stick) I asked TheMonk what snow tasted like. And while he couldn’t quite pin down a particular flavor, he was emphatic that it did NOT, no matter how much a certain Daddy insisted, taste like chicken.
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