Ice is cold

You gotta love kids.

William, age 3, had spent half an hour playing with ice on the front yard. I don’t know how but he was impervious to the cold and had a great time breaking up the clumps. Hubby had tipped out the leftover ice out of the esky before leaving for work. It was keeping William occupied rather nicely while I unpacked the car from our adventures the day before. Alexis was running stuff inside for me. Hope was chewing on a muddy frisbee.. It was all a little too easy.

I looked at the mud on the otherwise shiny white car.. I could wash it… Hmm.. Let’s start with the esky hey.

When William managed to sneak up on Alexis and get his fingers shut in the door, I was up to my armpits in mud and grass off the esky. “Ouch poor William,” I said, barely missing a beat. “Grab some ice off the grass honey, it’ll help your hand.”

This is obviously not good enough. When a small child is injured, mummy must drop everything and run. 😉 It’s not about a solution, it’s about sympathy.

I tried again. “Hold this ice little man.”

“I can’t… It’s too cold….”