Dad had a snow day from work (I know...it's as great as it sounds) and so it was time to break out the sled again. It took a few minutes of rumaging through the garage to produce the sled. Ava was excited to see it and we took a few practice laps down the stairs. On a unrelated note, if anyone know how to get sled dents out of hardwood flooring, please let me know.Taking cues from every movie that involves dressing a child up to play in the snow, I patiently waited until after a potty break. Once the diaper was changed, I sprung into action...gloves, hat, boots, fleece, jacket, snow pants....where are the snowpants. I couldn't find the snowpants. I was faced with one of those difficult dilema's that defines you as a parent. Staring at the anxious face of you daughter, half dressed in winter gear, sweating profusly and there are no snow pants to be found. Sitting there with a fresh diaper and the sledding window before naptime is closing...closing...closing..
Webster's dictionary defines garbage bag as...
I won't say she was best looking kid at the sled hill (well, really she was), but I can gaurantee you that she was as dry as any of them. So if someone sees a pair of really tiny leopard skin pants please let me know, they're probably Ava's (or Margret's).
