Throwing caution to the windchill factor

Ken: Lord of the ring

Birthdays are a celebration of interest as of late. At pre-school, on your birthday, the group sings the classic song, and the person of honor brings a celebratory treat to share. The school handbook requests that we NOT bring food.

I know.

Because we looked.

Call me a cautious rule follower. 

On my birthday, we brought stickers. 

Despite the rule book's request, our two most recent celebration-makers brought cupcakes. (So. Delicious. I'm not breathing a word to the handbook writers.) Let me tell you, though, it's not the mini-cake and topping that have my attention. It's the cooler-than-ever ring wedged in the center of the frosting. A RING, I tell you! The first ring was a plastic snowflake with a touch of glitter (pictured). Charming, gender-neutral, and exactly the token needed to drive behaviors and activities between Sam, Georgia and me. Until Sam stepped on it. Broke into three pieces. Samwise. The guy just doesn't know his own strength.

Sam: Loyal companion

As luck would have it, a second ring arrived via preschool birthday and cupcake. Hoorah! Pink, heart-shaped, with a Disney princesses slapped on the center, this piece of precious has rekindled a fellowship of activity between us three siblings. Despite its more effeminate features, the ring proves a constant comrade (minus bed time and bath time), and I am happy to  whistle along to the rhythm of its calling. Three cheers for handbook rule-benders and preschool birthdays.

Indoor entertainment abounds these days, and I'm compelled to tell you about our pirate ship. Yes! At Christmas, we scored a real pirate ship. (Thanks, Monty and Sue!) It sits in the basement, next to the bar, and provides hours of toddler-sized entertainment. Mom dug through the Halloween bin and found last year's pirate hat. Typically, the one who dons this captain's hat and princess ring charts the course of imagination for the day. We sail to little-known places like: the corner of the laundry room, the top of the roof, or up and down the chimney. 

Georgia: Captain of the ship

In other  news, we fired up an annual membership to the Minnesota zoo. Who goes a'zoo-ing in the winter, you ask? We do. The indoor trails, penguins, fish (and the three-toed sloth!) provide just the right kind of escape from the hum-drum of these can't-go-outside-because-the-wind-chill-will-numb-your-teeth-and-rip-off-your-face kinds of temperatures. So, while some lucky buggers jet set to places like Mexico and Jamaica, we happily trundle to the Tropics Trail, shed our jackets and bask in the glory of 72 degrees and humid. It's the best 6.3 miles ever traveled. 

And so it goes around here at the Corrigan Conrad abode. Here's hoping this message finds you creating your own kind of fun as we march ever vigilantly toward spring.

Until next time,

Ken