Went grocery shopping. Took both my kids. Didn’t put snowpants on them. We were only going from the house to the car and the car to the store.
While I was buckling my daughter into her carseat, my son decided to jump off the front step into a snow pile in our tiny garden. He sank right up to his waist. When I pulled him out (literally 3 seconds after he jumped in), he left little circles of no snow.
He kept uttering these words over and over: “Mommy. Cold. Legs. Mommy. Cold. Legs.”
I took him back inside and helped him out of his pants. Turns out, they were packed with snow from his jump in the snow pile. That explains the lack of snow in those two spots in the garden. It was all up his pants.
Poor kid. He was momentarily frozen. I warmed his little legs, admonished him (as I tried to hide my smile ) for jumping in the snow without snowpants on and dressed him up again to head to the grocery store.
When we arrived home after shopping, he did a bee line for the snow pile. Stopped short. Looked at it long and hard.
Then headed up the steps to the house, looking back at it as if it were about to jump up and grab him. Reminds me of that book by Robert Munsch, The Mud Puddle.