Mitten Expert

It got cold here. Fast. Saturday it was nearly 90 degrees outside, today it is sleeting and the natives are driving like maniacs on the snow, preparing for the Armageddon that is a "wintry mix" in Texas.

To prepare for freezing temperatures I took Will out last night to buy mittens. He needs mittens on the playground. As he puts it, you can't swing with your hands in your pockets. He's right. We are at the store in the mitten section which has obviously been hit and ravaged by panicking North Texas mommies who heeded the prediction a day in advance. By the time we get to the mitten section there are 5 pairs left and only two choices in color. He picks red. The blue would have matched his coat better, but he picked red. Whatever. It's not like he's going to wear these more than 10 times this season, I promise. Later he will be using them for boxing gloves I assure you so he might as well pick something he likes.

We buy mittens and get in the car on the way home. He has to wear them, of course. I unhook them and pass each mitten back. Soon sounds of mitten frustration reach the front seat. He's gotten one mitten on but can't put the other hand in the mitten because the mitten-clad hand is of no use to pull it up. He gives up. I encourage him that it can be done. He's close to ultimate 3 year old frustration. Chris tells him to wait until we get home. Meltdown approaches. I turn around and show him that your teeth are not just for eating, they are for putting on the second mitten too.

Will and Chris look at me like I've just suggested the most moronic idea ever uttered. I nod and tell Wilson I know what I'm talking about. He uses his teeth. Viola! Two mittens on hands. Chris rolled his eyes at me. Wilson looks at his mittens in amazement.

"Mommy, you are so smart. You're the smartest mommy ever. You are so smart with mittens, Mommy."

I see the inscription now on my tomb - "She knew all about mittens."