(no subject)
Though Jim would never admit it, waking up to snow the day before had been a welcome sight. After years living in an island setting, the charm of it always being warm was lost. It wasn't really special when it was the same thing all the time. He almost missed the change of seasons now, and this month was the closest to that.
What was also special was Sam was old enough now to appreciate the snow. She'd been so little the last time it'd snowed, barely a few months old. It was hard to believe she was so much bigger now sometimes, and it was nearly impossible now to keep her out of it. She nearly dragged him outside that morning, and Jim had to laugh at her excitement for it all.
They were on the beach fairly early in the afternoon, all bundled up. Jim was intent on cramming everything he could possibly do in the snow with her in the month, and today he figured they ought to try their hand at making a snowman. With Rembrandt running about in the snow nearby, he got to work with her, making the first ball, then the second to put on top of it.
"Now you need a smaller one, Sam," he told her, as he started rolling up the snow needed. She looked up at him as he spoke, cheeks rosy from the cold. He placed the last part of the snowman where it should be, then scooped her up in his arms, and she let out a little squeal of delight.
"Okay, which rocks should we use for its eyes?" he asked as he pulled out the few he'd collected and put in his pocket. She obviously didn't realize why she was choosing, though she did end up picking out at least one of the shinier stones by moving to grab it herself. He let her take it, then even got her to put it in the head part of the snowman.
It was a little off-center, but it was her snowman, after all.
[OOC: Tags might be a little slowish until tonight - have work to go to for a bit.]
What was also special was Sam was old enough now to appreciate the snow. She'd been so little the last time it'd snowed, barely a few months old. It was hard to believe she was so much bigger now sometimes, and it was nearly impossible now to keep her out of it. She nearly dragged him outside that morning, and Jim had to laugh at her excitement for it all.
They were on the beach fairly early in the afternoon, all bundled up. Jim was intent on cramming everything he could possibly do in the snow with her in the month, and today he figured they ought to try their hand at making a snowman. With Rembrandt running about in the snow nearby, he got to work with her, making the first ball, then the second to put on top of it.
"Now you need a smaller one, Sam," he told her, as he started rolling up the snow needed. She looked up at him as he spoke, cheeks rosy from the cold. He placed the last part of the snowman where it should be, then scooped her up in his arms, and she let out a little squeal of delight.
"Okay, which rocks should we use for its eyes?" he asked as he pulled out the few he'd collected and put in his pocket. She obviously didn't realize why she was choosing, though she did end up picking out at least one of the shinier stones by moving to grab it herself. He let her take it, then even got her to put it in the head part of the snowman.
It was a little off-center, but it was her snowman, after all.
[OOC: Tags might be a little slowish until tonight - have work to go to for a bit.]