This morning after a few too many hours of Saturday morning cartoons, I turned off the tv (to the children's loudly-voiced dismay) and the husband and I dragged our reluctant, protesting sons to the car. There is a little bay-side park not far from us, and a short, level hike seemed the perfect antidote to an overdose of Disney Junior. The sun shone brilliantly. The boys were bundled. I wore a bright green scarf.
We lasted five minutes.
Our mild little climate down here on the Gulf Coast has admittedly made us wimps, but I think even the cold-climate-living MSO-Rin would have shivered in the biting wind coming off the bay today. We all zipped up our coats to the nose, pulled down our stocking caps, and huddled close, walking along a boardwalk over the incongruously tropical swamp foliage. Jake, my four year old, walked almost the entire "hike" with his arm around my upper thigh, hiding from the wind. (You can imagine how that hampered progress.) Cubby, the two-year old, alternated between running full tilt ahead of us, and then stopping briefly to weep and whine about this terrible forced march that had interrupted his morning of Doc McStuffins.
Even I, their outdoorsy, suck-it-up mother, was not so hardheaded that I couldn't admit defeat. We turned tail and ran back to the car, came home, played dominoes. The husband will soon light a fire. The wind can whip and wail outside - we are tucked up warm together in our cozy home. I am grateful that I can idly wonder about the temperature outside, since I own this lovely "inside" that keeps me safe from the elements.
It's 52 degrees, by the way. But with a 25 mph wind. (The wind is VERY COLD, ok? I don't want to hear it from any of you Midwesterners.)
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