Simple Pleasures

My 5-yr old and I walk home from the YMCA, where we have just spent "not enough time" swimming.  His hand is in mine as we stroll along the sidewalk.  I notice my face feels much colder than it did on the walk there.  Although the wind is virtually imperceptible, the difference to the bare skin is significant.  I hope he will make it home without too much complaining.  He had opted to not wear a toque, and we could only find one of his mitts so he is wearing mini-gloves instead.

I enjoy every time we walk hand in hand.  I know it won't last forever.  I don't think the last time will come for awhile yet, but I know that when it does come I will be unaware, so I had better cherish each of these moments.

As we walk along, he picks the odd ice chunk and gives it a boot.  We take turns kicking it along until it is out of reach.  Then he chooses another and we start again.  I know this is making the walk longer, increasing the risk that the cold will suddenly be more than he thinks he can handle, but on the other hand, he is enjoying himself.  And I am enjoying watching that.

About half-way home, I hear the first complaint.  "I'm cold."

"I guess you should have worn your toque," I comment as I try to bring his hood closer to his head.  'I need to just bring it next time,' I think, 'just in case.'  It is then that I notice something in his jacket pocket.

"Look Justin - your other mitt!  Should we put it on?"

"Yes, please," he replies.  Conveniently, it is the mitt for the hand I wasn't holding, and I hope that I will be able to keep his other hand warm enough with my own.

Continuing on our way, I notice his face is quite pink.  "Your cheeks are rosy."

"What?  They're rose?" he asks.

"Rosy.  They're red from the cold," I explain with a little smile.  I love watching his mind take in new things.  I still chuckle every time I tell him to hold his pants on and he grabs them.  I haven't told him yet what I actually mean - I want to hold onto that innocence a little longer yet.

"Is my chin rose, too?"

"Yes, it is.  And your nose."

"Oh.  Two more blocks."

"Yup, we're almost home."  Our walk is almost over, our special time coming to a close.

After we get home, I decide to put a pot of milk on the stove for some hot chocolate.  Just for Justin and me.

"Justin, there's something on the table for you.  It's in a black cup."

"Hot chocolate!  Thank you, Mom!"  He sits down and takes a sip.  He pauses to look at me and asks, "Are you cold?"

"No, are you?"

"I was, but I'm not anymore."