As the snow melts and re-freezes, the outside world becomes a structurally white crust with the plastic toys sticking through. Last evening, we bundled the family up and plodded outside to enjoy the fluffy dusting of snow. Our daughter rode a series of daddy fueled sled rides along the ridges until the energy source collapsed onto an exposed bench. Then she waddled around the yard licking snowflakes out of the air until she found her favorite outside toy, the slide!
Anyone who has ever seen a two year old in a snow suit knows that movement is limited to a small series of forced bends, that walking is more of a side to side waddle, and that the concept of stairs is almost impossible. Watching a small clothbound child attempt to climb up a slide with-out a capable opposable thumb to grab the handles, and to bend enough to sit is hilarious. The first attempt went surprisingly smoothly.
Bolstered by success, she rocked herself back up onto her snow boots and waddled around to the stairs. There she miss-stepped on the first rung and slid sideways. The third attempt, she got to the top of the ladder (two feet at most) lost her footing and slid feet first down the rungs. Fourth attempt, she managed to make it to the top. There her balance gave out as she bent at the waist, dumping her stomach onto the top of the slide. From there, her rocking to grab the handles tipped her penguin style down the slide part.
Does the small child give up? Not at all. I think she is delighted to discover new thrills with old toys. She loves the sudden indrawn breaths of Mom in the background, and usually turns with twinkling blue eyes as if to say, "Gotcha Mom!"
Snow, please snow, and cover the plastic "mom" torture device.