The other night, trying to extract as much fun from the finite sledding season as possible, my son and I head over the road. The wind was fierce. It howled and blew us off course several times. Bitter cold gusts swooped in and shut out all other sounds. At intervals, the wind would subside a bit and you could catch your breath and brace yourself for the next barrage of cold air.
After we got to the first hill, and there was another lull, my son looked up and said very seriously, "The wind listened."
"What?" I asked.
"I told the wind over and over 'better'...'better', and it got better!"
With that, he turned and clambered to the top of the hill as I braced for another onslaught of icy wind.
After we got to the first hill, and there was another lull, my son looked up and said very seriously, "The wind listened."
"What?" I asked.
"I told the wind over and over 'better'...'better', and it got better!"
With that, he turned and clambered to the top of the hill as I braced for another onslaught of icy wind.
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