I rode my bike this morning, yellow trailer rattling along behind me. The boys were stuffed snuggly within its canvas walls. The clear vinyl window fogged up from their breath only feet from the driveway. They may not be able to see very well, but they are warm and safe back there.
Moments after we arrive at school, they are quickly hustled into the glow of the hallways. Doors briefly pop open and teachers poke their heads out into the icy wind just long enough to usher another kid indoors.
Picking them up, I opt to drive. The bike cart sits too low to the ground and the drifts are already knee deep in places. It would be like pulling a hundred pound snow plow. Blowing snow cuts at our exposed noses and cheeks. If we turn into the wind, our eyes are all pin pricked and blink blinded.
I regale them with stories of frozen toes and frostbit cheeks. They respond with suitable awe, which is uncharacteristic, but I’ll take it.
Moments after we arrive at school, they are quickly hustled into the glow of the hallways. Doors briefly pop open and teachers poke their heads out into the icy wind just long enough to usher another kid indoors.
Picking them up, I opt to drive. The bike cart sits too low to the ground and the drifts are already knee deep in places. It would be like pulling a hundred pound snow plow. Blowing snow cuts at our exposed noses and cheeks. If we turn into the wind, our eyes are all pin pricked and blink blinded.
I regale them with stories of frozen toes and frostbit cheeks. They respond with suitable awe, which is uncharacteristic, but I’ll take it.