Walk in the Snow
I remember when I was little and playing out in the snow meant piling on the layers. Turtleneck, sweatshirt, parka, long underwear, snow pants, hats, mittens. Even with all those layers I would still be freezing. These days, the only time I put on that many layers is when the temperature is in the single digits and I plan on spending more than five minutes outside. If I’m heading to the store or mall and the only time I plan on being in the elements is the minute it takes to walk from the apartment to the car, I skip all those extra layers.
Lorelei, however, isn’t allowed to get away with that. We bundle her up like Randy from A Christmas Story. Her coat is so big and puffy that she can barely put her arms down. Somewhere in the depths of her sleeves, her tiny fingers are tucked into mittens that are slightly too large. Tights and socks are stuffed into pink cowboy boots and covered with a layer of heavy sweatpants. Then, and only then, is she ready for a walk in the snow.
But now, she can take hesitant steps in the fine white powder.
She can slip and fall on her butt
She can wriggle her way back into a standing position.
All the cabin fever and hair pulling, eye stabbing boredom is forgotten. My little girl is growing up so fast and I’m really lucky that I get to see it all happen.