"Mommy, mommy, mommy your hands are so cold!"
I had just been marking assignments downstairs, in the part of the house that Ken referrs to as the "experiment in cryogenics", and even though it is JUNE and we should be enjoying some sun and warmpth, we on the wet coast are still basking in temperatures that have barely reached double digits in the last couple of weeks.
After a couple of hours struggling with papers (and cursing at students who so obviously didn't read the outline or the criteria for the assignment - do you know how hard those are to mark???) my hands are almost blue with cold. I have always had an issue with cold hands, but in this weather in the downstairs of the house it is made exponentially worse.
When I come upstairs to re-fuel on caffine or chip the ice of my digits, I try to find the closest warm body to try to warm up my hands. My kids are my polar opposite as far as temperature is concerned - it could be a snowstorm outside and they will be running around the house in shorts and tee-shirts while I am still wearing my thermals INSIDE. Nicholas in particular is like a little hot water bottle, so as soon as I find him, I pin him down and shove my hands up his shirt. And OMG he FREAKS OUT. Screams non-stop, and giggles all at the same time. As soon as I take my hands out, he asks for more. Weird how that works.
So last night, my darling child comes up to me and cups his hands around my face.
"I love you mommy" he says.
"I love you too sweetie"
"Are my hands cold?"
"No sweetheart, they are nice and warm"
"I warmed them up for you" he says.
"That was nice Nicholas - how did you do that?"
"I had them down my pants".