It was a snowy day. It looked like this:
I talked to our neighbour who was carrying several loads of food and party-type supplies from his house. “Are you going away for Christmas?” I said. “No,” he said, “It’s our little girl’s first birthday party. We’re having it in the park.” Ah, best of luck, then.
We found a sled in our storage locker and we took ourselves to Safeway. Fresco rode on my back and had a nap. Trombone rode on the sled. We bought groceries. The staff was really solicitous because there were hardly any customers. The Safeway has been renovated and part of their renovation agreement appears to include snow clearing because for the first time in two snowy winters attending this Safeway, we could actually walk up a sidewalk that was bare and into the store without fearing for our lives.
We came home. We had hot chocolate. We had lunch. Then there was a lot of this:
and this:
so Saint Aardvark and I had a low-toned conversation amidst the din and clatter of our children and decided to Release The Kitchen a slight four days before Christmas.
After Trombone’s nap, while I distracted him with a movie, SA set up the kitchen. And then there was much microwaving of broccoli and bacon and baking of tomato and boiling of potato and much, MUCH washing of hands. “Your hands are DIRTY Daddy. You must WASH THEM.” He thinks he is getting revenge on us. We are happy to let him think that.
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