A couple of years ago, we went to NM for Christmas. Granny and the guys bought a tree Christmas Eve, everyone wearing shorts and t-shirts. Beautiful day. The boys were happy: happy to be with Granny, happy to have Christmas coming, happy to be together. Nobody bemoaned the lack of snow, or said it didn't "feel" like Christmas. It felt very much like Christmas. We should all be that happy with what we have.
We awoke Christmas morning to three feet of snow. Obviously, we had no snow boots, now snow bibs. The kids went out to play in their hoodies and jeans. All was well and good until Smidge sat on the concrete patio (he'd taken the caramel stirring spoon from Granny and bolted out the door) - he sat there, happily licking the spoon, long enough for his pants to melt the snow and refreeze to the patio. We had a heckuva time getting him up. I want to be that happy with a caramel spoon again. So happy that I don't even notice my butt has frozen to the ground.
Obviously, some instinct (call it "a desire to live through winter") protects us from actually not caring if we freeze to the ground once we're on our own. But the idea of that kind of all-encompassing happiness. Good stuff. We need more of it.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
3 comments:
Oh, I love the image of him blissfully licking his little spoon while his bum freezes away. Brilliant!
"So happy that I don't even notice my butt has frozen to the ground."
Yes, indeed, that is some kind of happy! I wonder how we find that again...
Oh, Dy, I laughed out loud at that image of Smidge freezing to the patio! That must have been some amazing caramel!
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