45 degrees in January, in New York, is down right balmy. We jauntily leave our jackets unzipped atop our sweaters and store our hats in our bags (assuming sun, that is.) 45 degrees in Florida anytime of the year, is cold. Add ridiculous winds and take away the sun and you have me huddled inside. It was about 10 degrees when we packed to fly south, so somehow 45 translated as "be carefree and leave your woolens at home" to me. Alas, alack, brrrrr...
So, P busied himself inside, playing with Grams and Gramps and I. Sweet Gramps braved the chill to dig shells in the drive one day and then P washed and categorized them with glee. He also treated P to a polo game starring cousin Josh. Otherwise, we hid :)
Then, the day before our departure, the sun returned. The Little Man thought this meant Florida as he knows it was back - and promptly froze his butt off wearing very little outdoors. But it was sunny! And we had loads of fun.
He found some stretchy workout band in my mom's closet and joyously created game after game with it. The prominent theme, of course, was merely swinging it through things...
Big diggers and loads of mulch = five year old nirvana. When I pulled out the broom to return the mulch to the beds, P was So Excited. I love five year olds :)
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