The rest of the snow arrived. It wasn’t quite the 12 inches the weather folks predicted, but it was enough to shut down Charlotte’s daycare and keep me home and enough to keep Michael from attempting to get out of the driveway. Woo hoo!
So, after bundling up for a full 45 minutes, we drug our cheap plastic sled to the nearest hill two blocks from our house and slid down it for a much shorter time than 45 minutes. It was basically miserable. BUT, if you discount the fact that it was almost impossible to walk up the hill in the heavy snow – and you also exclude the part where Charlotte got one of her fingers wet and immediately started whining that she was getting “frostbite” – and you throw out the bit where we were all tired and cold and grumpy at the end – it was a rockin’ good time.
By next year, I’ll only remember the three seconds of fun we had sliding down the hill and I’ll be dressing the family up warm and making them both go with me again. Whether they like it or not.