We were delivering Christmas cards to our neighbors and it happened to have snowed, so we took out the sleds. Stellamaris was delightfully being pulled on the sled, the baby sled that she barely fits into at two years and nine months, nonetheless we made it work and she loved going around as so. The snow was a delightful surprise two inches that somehow motivated us to brave what was with the windchill, less than twenty degree weather.
One friend's home had a blowup Olaf, at what would be an approachable size. It wasn't a giant, intimidating Olaf, but what would be what I think if Olaf could possibly be a real thing, what size he would actually be. The children had recently been treated to watching Frozen 2 with their grandparents, so they have been delighted with all things Frozen.
When we had pulled up to the house and delivered the letter, Helena, who was also with us, declared that she would like to give Olaf a hug. I said, sure, I think that would be okay. I didn't expect her to destroy Olaf, but reminded her to be gentle nonetheless. Then, Stella decided she had to give Olaf a hug too. So I unbuckled her from her little sled, the buckle a key component to her feeling safe in a sled, a bigger one she won't do because there is no buckle. And she walked her little feet over to Olaf and gave him a hug. With the biggest smile, she walked back to me and got back in the sled, and we went on our way. This was my delightful bit of joy for the day.
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