I almost forgot about this in the general hecticity of late. De, inadvertently, reminded me.
Went for a walk with Kitten the other day. I think it was Saturday, but I could be wrong. Yeah, it was — Margie was back from errands, we were back from errands, but Margie needed some free time. So Kitten and I bundled up for a walk.
The snow had stopped, but there was a nice, fleecy couple of inches on the lawns as we walked around the block. Katherine had on some sparkly/fleecy baby-blue gloves that are still a tad too large for her, but she had a great time running ahead in her pink jacket down the sidewalk. Tons of energy.
About halfway around the circle, we got into a running snowball fight. I’m not sure who started it, but it was — well, it was laughing, giggly fun all around. And that was really cool. The snow was perfect for making soft-but-stable snowballs. Katherine did a good job of gathering up snow, but didn’t quite get — yet — the idea that you need to compact from the sides, not just from the tops and bottoms. And her throwing sucks, and her rate of fire was about a quarter of my own casual lobbing.
But it didn’t make any difference — she was having laughing, giggling, screaming, grinning fun, grabbing the snowballs I’d thrown at her and running up and shoving them at me. That I was “winning” didn’t bother her — that I was playing with her was all that mattered.
It was a great, great time. And I almost forgot about it.