This time of year, we live in the land of snow. Or the great white north. Whichever you prefer to call it. Regardless, there is snow on the ground and will be until April. Welcome winter.
This is the first winter that our son has been aware of. He was born at the end of winter and last winter he was too concerned about getting mobile to pay attention to the white stuff outside. But this winter? He is well aware of snow, cold and all the accessories that come along with it. Like his boots. And his snowsuit. And mitts. And toques. And he isn't a big fan of any of them. Oh, he likes to wear his boots around the house. And he doesn't mind getting dressed in his snowsuit because it has something to do with being able to go outside but he just doesn't like being outside in all the get up. And who can blame the kid? Really, who likes being dressed up like a big marshmallow and then told to go play? The kid can barely walk on the shovelled driveway, let alone in the snow without listing to one side and then falling over.
So, what does he do? He eats snow.
He eats it off his mitts.
He eats it off the carpet by the door after it has been tracked in on our boots.
And he eats it out of a bowl.
A bowl full of snow that I went out and got for him, begrudgingly, wondering what kind of kid ASKS for a bowl of snow to eat.
And is completely satisfied to have it plopped in front of him and to be able to eat it.
Who knew?
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