Beloved, the little angel and I clomped down the sidewalk. It had snowed just a little bit, and what was there had already melted, but the air contained that combination of humidity and cold that tickles your nose and reminds me of the Rocky Mountains. I just wanted to be outside in it a little longer, so I whined for a trek down a neighborhood path that winds behind houses and essentially goes nowhere. I knew it went nowhere because we'd been down it before, but we were only a few blocks from home and I was stalling.
We'd only gone past four or five houses when the path became covered in the mud resulting from less than an inch of snow. I watched the little angel tromp through it in her snow boots and wished I'd been more thoughtful of my own footwear. I own snow boots, too. Why weren't they on my feet?
"This was a really bad idea," I said. "I'm sorry. We're getting all muddy."
She didn't even turn around. She just yelled, "Mommy, are you an explorer or are you a fashion model?"
I swallowed. "I'm an explorer! I'M AN EXPLORER!"
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