Today I got out of the car for our morning stroll around the duck pond to find a new chill in the air. Instead of putting Aug in his stroller, I strapped him to myself with the carrier and we shared a little extra (and much appreciated) body warmth. Due to the extra-cozyness he fell asleep about half a mile into our walk, and so I sat for a while on a bench. We sit on this particular bench frequently, because it is the spot in the park where the mama duck and her duckling like to rest, and not the side where the evil goose troop stalks around. I dislike foul fowl. I would not be surprised if church scholars found out that Genesis was improperly translated and it was actually a goose in a tree, tricking a woman. Terrible, hissing, mean, long necked, green-pooing things. Here is proof that they want to attacks us and, subsequently, feast on our eyeballs. Bleh. Anyway, I sat on our bench while Augie slept, his head resting on my chest and my hand covering his little ear to block the wind, when I noticed the mama duck was taking a nap next to her duckling. I wondered what she thought of her remaining little thing, as the others had been taken from her over the course of the summer. I do not care to think of what happened to them. Makes me sad. I became acutely aware of how thankful I was for my sweet little person, and thankful for the cold weather months of the year. I believe that cold weather brings out an extra bit of love in people. You want to be closer, mover slower, and enjoy the warmth of the living things that are left in your life, those particularly dark and frozen months. I am incredibly excited to snuggle in our family bed on the cold nights-- Zipping Augie into fleece pajamas and sliding into bed next to him, and then an hour or so later getting the extra bit of body heat from the Papa coming into bed last, as he always does. Then, waking up in the morning and staying in just a few extra minutes to chat with one another, and tickling the little person between us, because we just hate to open the covers and let in the chilly air.
The moral of this tale is to be ever-thankful for your loved ones, because you never know when the water-foul will rise up and begin the usurpment.*
*Yes, I know usurpment it not a word, but Forrest was not here to ask what a better word would be.