A few weeks ago, I was baking a cake for Mr. Nielson's 37th birthday.
Giant white snowflakes fell from the sky out of my cozy kitchen window.
It was pretty amazing, and then I noticed I was short a cup of flour.
I asked Oliver, who was wearing his padded football pants and no shirt,
and Jane to go to our neighbors down the hill and borrow a cup of flour.
Ollie put on his coat and Claire's yellow Hunter boots and followed Jane out the door.
I watched as they ran, holding each other's hands down our slippery snowy slope.
They ran the whole way to the street, where our sweet neighbor
met them with a little sack of flour.
With arms linked, they ran to the top of the driveway, holding the flour sack.
Jane's hair was wild in the wind, and Ollie's jacket was open, exposing his bare chest.
It made me laugh and wish my children would never grow up.
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