History

My pint sized friend, who's now in preschool, likes to make hand prints on the inside of my storm door. This one magically materialized this morning when I left the main door ajar momentarily to get his snow boots off. A layer of frost formed almost immediately.

He asked me to pick him up high so he could make a print at the top of the door. I remember doing that...last year. I've been exposed. I haven't cleaned the storm door since last year. Not likely that I will now that I've discovered this. In fact, I may not ever clean it again.

I've been taking him to "school" on Thursdays and Fridays, enjoying some snuggles and games before hauling him back out into the cold. Less and less snuggles, more conversation, more laughs. Three is an awesome age. Just enough little boy left for a major awwwww factor but already so much more knowledge about how the world works. He told me all the words today that he isn't allowed to say at school and home and then pointed out that he had just said them.

I'm excited about this. Might have to start playing with dolls again.