This morning, our little thermometer reads 32 degrees F.
A quick glance at the frost covering my backyard confirms the thermometer's accuracy.
32 degrees is the coldest temperatures our little guys have ever experienced in their entire lives.
They are looking at me like this is crazy.
Even their fuzzy, fleecy, footy jammies weren't enough for them this moring. They dropped those like a hot (well, cold) potato, and opted for a full fleece hooded sweatsuit, long sleeved shirts and thick socks. They each carefully put up their hoods and tied them tight, saying, "No Freht, No Freht!" For some reason, all I could think about was Elliot on ET and I smiled.
I bundled them up on the little kid couch in the family room, under 4 blankets and went to check the thermostat. Hmmmm. 58 degrees inside the house. Time to crank that heat on for the first time this season.
We've been trying to explain snow for the past few days. We've watched Frosty the Snowman and showed them photos of years past when the kids played in snow, yet I dare say we made them understand. Experienced parents of Haitian Angels out there: anyone know the Kreyol word/phrase for snow that my boys might understand?
Time to put on some hot cocoa for my little Kreyol-sicles :)