Aw, hell, it's snowing.
It's not that I didn't know it would snow again - it is, after all, only the middle of January - but I was hoping that maybe, just maybe...
Instead tonight we unloaded wood in our winter coats and mittens and the kids ran, whooping, for the yard to go coasting under the glow of the streetlight.
I stood with my hair full of wet and hoped that someday they'll remember this, that one night their Mom and Dad took leave of their senses, let go of all the rules and let them out in the dark and the scudding snow so they could fly down the hill in the gathering dark, the wind whistling in their ears.
Then back in for hot vanilla milk*, steamy baths, and a long reading session, while the night tapped 'round the windows and the snows fell thickly down.
*Pot of milk, warmed, with honey, vanilla and a shake of cinnamon in. Very nice in thick mugs with hot toast, and more quieting before bed than hot chocolate.