When not worrying about the Hantavirus, I had a really lovely time this last weekend at a friend's cabin in Tagish. It was about an hour drive from home, (an hour and a half when you have Mountain Dad at the wheel who is a subscriber to the "journey" being just as important as the "destination"). Tucked into the woods beside immense, windy Tagish Lake the cabin is rustic but cosy. We ate, read, tried to sleep (the wee gifts left behind a mouse behind, had me in a tizzy) and skied out on the lake at nap-time (no naps for me, tough luck).
Adelaide pottered around in the cabin, happily distributing Connect-4 pieces throughout. She insisted on donning her new snow suit to venture "outsigh" and in a spasm of unconcern, I argued with Mountain Dad that surely we could just pop her out the door and she could pootle around the deck by herself? There were windows on one of it's two sides....she'd only fall into soft snow.....
He dressed her muttering all the while about how this was a "waste of time," and something about it only lasting ten minutes and she'd be back inside.
Our Little Ladie toddled out and just like we encouraged, made her way around the deck to the large verandah at the front that spread itself at the lap of the windows by which we lounged. She grinned her way up to the window, smooshed her snot smeared face against the glass and in the time it took for her to comprehend our state of NOT being ready to join her, the grin turned to tears. Wailing, she stood there, arms dangling by her side, head titled to the sky, the tears falling and the snot running.
Gracious Mountain Dad got up and went to her rescue.
Back inside he undressed her from snowsuit, boots, mitts, hat; not less than two minutes after he had just piled it all on.
I'm pretty sure that it was just a tickle in his throat that had him hurumphing.