Cora and I just came in from playing outside. The snow is perfect for packing, but not thick enough to form a big snowman. Our play degenerated into missile filled attacks. I need to take her outside more often. Its nice to hurl items at your child and have them giggle in pleasure rather than scream in pain. Not like I throw things at the children regularly, or in anger EVER. It still was nice frustration relief.
In the midst of a snowball battle, Cora goes "stop stop stop!" Then walks up to me munching on her current projectile. Then she says with a piously serious face "Once Daddy threw a snowball right in my face!"
Awwww, I think. Cora is explaining to me a scenario that she does not want repeated. I kneel down to explain to her that Mommy aims for her butt and chest. "Did he?" I start. "He probably didn't mean to do it on purp..."
My speech halted as I received a mouthful of fluffy white snow. "Yeah! Like this!" She said, running off and scooping to refill her mittens.
In snowball fights, I show no mercy, none. Not even if you are four and half my height.