My work was cancelled first, then the Kid's school. Sweet Husband went in for a few hours, but it was quickly obvious it was going to be a short day. I spent the morning baking--a warm oven being a delightful thing--but by lunch the Kid was clamoring for a walk in the snow.
So into the blizzard we went--and it certainly felt like a blizzard by then with snow blowing into our faces and cowls as we walked. The Kid's cheeks turned crimson as he kept reaching out from his sled for handfuls of snow, and we were all happy for the fresh air.
When we got home, I walked around to check on the ladies as the boys shoveled the driveway. When the Kid was finally coaxed inside, his hat and gloves were caked with snow and his feet--despite his wool socks--were icy. The cold didn't stop him from enjoying a bowl of snow, but it did make his dada insist on a little rest and a warm blanket after.
And now we're watching the Kid sleep--Sweet Husband knitting, me typing away. I wish our little blizzard would go on one more day, and I may just be lucky enough to get my wish granted.