The shortcut across the ball field proved to be a mistake on a bitterly cold windy morning on the way home from the school. I walked lightly across the frozen crust of snow and ice that sat on top of the layers of softer snow, the result of a brief melt that was cut off by a new storm, a new cold front. Jacob forged ahead with equal ease, despite dropping down through the ice with every step, sinking almost halfway to his knees, making me taller than he is for the first and last time ever, which I pointed out with glee. He just grinned and kept going, hands jammed deep in corduroy pockets, scarf up around his ears, hat flaps down and a curse to grow his hair back as long as it was before.
When we finally made it back, we decided to skip coffee and make hot chocolate instead. I dragged the step stool over to the counter, but he beat me to it, and easily reached the top shelf in the cupboard. He passed me the jar and smiled and I made two cups, with baby marshmallows floating in the tops, and fixed a plate of graham crackers and grapes, and we retired to the study to sit on either side of his big desk, he in his big chair and me on my knees in the Windsor chair halfway across the desk so I can see what he's writing.
Almost at the same time we both felt the need to point out we wanted to stay home for March Break and just do kid stuff. We laughed. We've been tossing short trip ideas around for a few weeks but neither once of us want to really go anywhere. Instead we're going to spend next week schlepping the kids to the library, the museum, the planetarium and probably Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
