After 48 hours of rainstorm, followed by 24 hours of snowstorm in NYC, J had the brilliant idea of trekking out into the snowstorm at 10pm when he saw Shio paw at our window while whining like a squeaky wheel. I'm sitting on the couch and ready to doze off while J happily tries to convince me to go out. Shio, sensing something was up, chimes along by nipping at my legs as I try to navigate my way around the apartment. How can you say no to the two loves of your life when they are so excited?
Dragging myself to the closet to put on 150 layers, I begrudgingly obliged being the trooper that I am. *Snort*
The true puppy side came out for both of them as they skipped and hoppity-hopped through the snow. Me? I was just the cranky old mummy.
Turns out, the trip out into the snowfall was just what the doctor ordered for the case of cabin fever we were experiencing. Minus the shlepping through the rain-snow sludge, the prickly sensation of hail smashing into your face as you walk against the wind and the overall freezing temperatures.
I'm sitting my couch potato arse in front of the tv with melting icicles dripping down my face as J comes skipping from the kitchen to state that he would like to wake up early in the a.m. to play again!
Awe.some. I'm really looking fwd to it.