Yesterday the temperature got up to a whopping 29. Fahrenheit. So, I did what any good mother would do: I tossed the rest of my family outside.
Well, actually the two older girls begged and begged and begged until I relented. By the time they were done I was ready for them to just go. Which, I guess, was their nefarious scheme all along. So I bundled them all up (even Prince Charming) and out they went into the gorgeous white world replacing our dreary backyard.
Just one little issue: Sweet Pea insisted that she must go too. I didn't really want to let her (it was cold!) but we decided to bundle her up and let her get her first taste of snow.
First impression: she was impressed. She stomped around with the big girls. And she did, in fact, have her first literal taste of snow.
Final conclusion: it's not all that. She came in soon after, talking about it in her toddler jabber, of which I caught a few words: "Cold. Out. Up. Cold." (The up is because she slid down a little hill once and had to forcefully insist one of her sisters rescue her.) And she did not insist on rejoining her older sisters, which tells me that Sweet Pea had her fill of snow in the seven minutes she was outside.
She outlasted me by six minutes.