"cold hands, warm heart"

My mother always used to say that to me. She had cold hands in the kitchen when I'd hold them. It didn't take me long to wonder, what sort of heart I must have if my hands are always warm.

This morning driving down Caroline street on the way into work. I saw this little girl bundled up in pink puffy coat. She looked like a cupcake, some sort of adorable, baby cupcake. I noticed that she had lost one of her tiny gloves. It was at this very moment that I remembered trying to put on gloves when I was a little girl. The strechy kind. (My mother bought them 3 for $5 at Bradlee's Department Store.) I remember with what difficulty I'd try to force my tiny fingers into the gloves as they stretched away from me and my inconsistent grasp. Do you remember this, this awful, difficult task? My pride developed before my dexterity and I would allow no one to help me. Two fingers stuck together in the thumb of the glove, backwards with palms out.

But those gloves were no good for the snow, and in that case only my freaky freezies were acceptable. I just searched for a long time to try to find a photo of a pair of freaky freezies for you. Maybe you remember them, the gloves that change color in the cold. Maybe you had the skiers who went down the mountain. Maybe you had the penguin whose sunglasses appeared on his beak, or maybe, you were more like me and had two hearts with rainbows in the background. Maybe you remember putting freaky freezies in your kitchen's freezer in the summer time. Maybe you remember breathing on them when you were outside just to watch them change back again. Maybe you licked yours. Ahh those were the best gloves. I really wish I had some now, but apparently the internet doesn't know anything about freaky freezies.

keep warm.