Cold weather is gripping the nation, especially my hometown in Washington, DC where’s it’s a temperature that doesn’t sound like a temperature: eight. Up in the higher latitudes it’s approaching temperatures found in outer space beyond poor Pluto. It’s thirty below in Michigan. But those people are used to it, who live in parkas for eight months a year and can lace up mukluks with mittened hands. Here is San Diego we are dealing with the cold weather as best we can. Last night it dropped to the low sixties in the evening, making swinging and outside play a real challenge. We aren’t without resources and determination here, so Number Two braved the elements to continue playing.
Can you tell that his shoes are on the wrong feet? Neither can he. Did I lick my finger so I could wipe some dirt off his face for this picture? I did. I’ll point out he was Very Brave for not using the seatbelt and safety bar for a few swings…until I pointed it out to him. Then he demanded full safety protocols be followed. Then I swung him very high and there was much frivolity, despite the FREEZING COLD TEMPERATURES.
Writer, architect, father, husband.