jack loved it for about 10 minutes. he was warm and cozy in his snow-wear. but it wasn't long before the gloves became uncomfortable and cumbersome to him. so he begged us to remove them. he cried and whined, and, against my wishes, his mother, weakened by the hormones of pregnancy and the naturally inferior feminine chemistry, removed his gloves, the only protection he had from the menace of the beautiful yet potentially fatal frozen ice crystals.
he was fine for another 5 minutes. until he fell (which is a common occurrance when you aren't used to wearing snow boots and you can't bend your knees or elbows due to the 9 layers of clothing with which you mom has outfitted you). when he fell, his gentle little hand was swallowed up by the harsh clutch of the icy snow. their was a moment of silence. he looked down at his hands, covered by the pure white weapons of cold. he took it all in, as his brain received signals quickly rushing from his nerve endings, a sense of shock rapidly setting in:
and he began to scream. and scream. and scream. he would have had less of a scream if we had actually removed his hands with a blunt and somewhat rusty metal instrument. and so that brought to an end our front yard (mostly) snowy adventure. i brought the sleds in. shannon turned on the hot water.