It is winter in the Frozen North. (Snurfle. Snurflesnurfle. AAAAAchoo.) It is too cold outside for munchkins. We have taken to a daily KICKABALL (as Bug calls it) extravaganza in the basement before dinner. Oh, summer, how I long for thee.
Also: why, whenever it snows more than two inches in Philly, people think they can't go out? I have a friend there who proclaims regularly that they are trapped! and cannot! drive! anywhere! People! Learn to drive in the snow. (Slowly, without any sudden movements.) Your car will slide about, no matter how careful you are; I rear-ended the diaper service van a few weeks ago. At a stoplight, going about 2 mph over ice, and then wham. But Philly is not the South; it snows. GET USED TO IT.
In other news, my brother-in-law has given Bug a two-foot-long bulldozer. He cries every night, because we do not let it have dinner with him.
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