You all (Mom) may recall that there was a rather large bunch of snow dropped on the greater St. Louis area (by which I mean the entire midwest) just after New Years. And the temperatures dropped to below zero. And there was wind. It was a lovely time, really it was. Anyway, as the snow came tumbling down along with the temperature, Margaret looked out the window, and -- as is her wont -- imagined that this was a special wonderland just for her to bustle in.
So we put on sweaters and scarves and socks and mittens (but neither scarlet leaves and gold, or a frog who was a particular friend, because in the one case, they were covered up by the snow and probably really a muddy brown color, and in the other because it seems to me unlikely that a frog, even one who was a particular friend, would add to the warmth of one's person)* and went outside in the driving snow to shovel the walk and let Margaret play in the snow.
Margaret found that she was much better at shoveling when someone else had already shoveled.
She got so good at it, that she developed a hands-free mode of shoveling.
And then proceeded to go inside and announce that she had shoveled the walk, and Mommy had helped. Which was NOT how it happened. I shoveled the 8 inches of snow off, and then she skated in and grazed the top and then went around bragging about a job well done.
*If you are at sea vis-a-vis my comment hear, you need to run (not walk) to the nearest library and order a copy of We Were Tired of Living in a House and read it immediately. It is amazing.