Pink Snow

Ever since we arrived in Washington, we've been wishing and waiting for spring. It seems as though it was worth the wait.

I remember spring being my favorite season when I lived in Baltimore. The days grew longer and warmer. It was a short season, as I recall. With days long and warm enough to lie in the grass and sleep on the quad numbering only as few before the end of the school year, but still these were by the far the best days after the long, cold, bitter and unkind Baltimore winter.

But I don't recall the spring being as pretty as the spring here. Maybe there weren't as many flowers or I wasn't the type of person than that noticed.

The flowers have started to fall from the trees, and I am sure I am not the first person who has thought it looked like pink snow.

Sam, Clementine and I went for a run yesterday and met Elise and Peter at Starbucks for a post-run treat. Then, Sam, Peter and I walked home through the park.

I jumped and hung from one of the tree branches, then bellowed, "Here comes a pink snow advisory!" Then shook the branch, so the petals fell like snow and floated down into pink drifts that Pete and Sam threw into the air and at me.

We stopped and played at the playground, then finished the walk through a nearby neighborhood, marvelling at the houses. Sam learned a new word, "Gorgeous". And practiced using it, "Look at that house, Daddy. It is gorgeous!" He should be the host of his own HGTV, "Sam's Gorgeous Home". 

Last night, we went out for a special Sunday dinner. Elise has trained them well, as Pete and Sam fought over which loafers to wear. Six months ago, we wouldn't have been able to put these loafers on them if you told them they were magical loafers that made you fly or walk on water. Sam insisted on wearing a tie.

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He looked awesome, and I had never been more proud.