Pint-sized Pessimist

Ever since the ice storm, temperatures have lingered below freezing, so the ice has stayed and stayed and STAYED. We aren't used to this kind of sustained cold and yesterday, I decided that I couldn't tolerate one more day--and certainly not one more week--of staying inside while the kids jumped off all the furniture and turned the house upside down. So after hunting down some extra layers of warm clothes, we headed out to the park. The still-iced-over park. Going to the park when it's freezing cold outside is my new favorite because we were the only ones brave/stupid enough to be there. Good thing, too, because the only way of keeping warm was to join the kids and run around and climb the play structures and other adults tend to frown on that kind of thing.

We had fun running around on the icy playground, then headed down a trail which was completely frozen over. McMoose and I were busy re-capturing our childhoods, "skating" down the trail and building little tiny snow-people along the sides of the trail and after some initial uncertainty (and falling,) Weston joined in the winter fun, too. Luke, on the other hand, took great pains to avoid walking on the ice, choosing instead to go over and under and through tree branches and spiky bushes, muttering the whole way about thorns.

Me: Luke! Come on the path, the ice is fun! It's like ice skating!
Luke: No.
Me: Why not?
Luke: You walk on the ice, you fall, you break your back, you can't walk or run or skate ever again.

Well. So much for the innocence of childhood.