Touch of Spice | CraigDailyPress.com
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Touch of Spice

Christina M. Currie

I remember winter being a fun time when I was a little kid. I want my daughters to have the same memories.

With that in mind — and probably the more pressing need to find a way for them to burn off some energy — I thought if the girls had some time outside it would do us all some good.

So, I went about the process of preparing the girls to spend some time outside.



Process is too mild a word.

We had to find warm clothes and put them on. Then we had to gather snowsuits, gloves, hats, coats, boots and face masks.



Hey, no kid of mine is going to complain they’re cold.

Then, I had to insert two small children into all those clothes.

They had to spend some time learning to walk again once I got them all bundled up.

During the process, I asked Katie repeatedly whether she had to go to the bathroom. Each time, the answer was an emphatic “no.”

Just like my girls to not consider taking off their snow pants before peeing unnecessary.

Anyway, it was a full 45 minutes later before they were out the door and squatting in Mother Nature’s smorgasbord. At least that’s how they view snow.

They ate their way from one end of the yard to the other.

I used the distraction to clean the kitchen, checking the girls’ progress from the kitchen window.

During one glance, I saw Katie trudging through the snow, but no trace of Nikki.

I walked to the door and spotted her at the back of the yard.

Well, I didn’t spot all of her, just her legs.

Thinking she’d fallen over, I waited for her to get back up, but I noticed there was something odd about the way her legs were flailing.

Then it hit me. She was right in the vicinity of a fence post hole that was dug, but never filled.

I grabbed my slippers and ran out — nearly barefoot — across the snow. I found my youngest head first in a muddy hole. I pulled her out and raced to the house, spreading the mud that covered her head and shoulders to her feet and across my shirt and pants.

No injuries could be found- her hysteria was just the reaction of a scared little girl.

I decided outside time was over. Nikki and I both were emotionally spent.

At least that’s what I thought. The minute we got inside the house, the crying stopped and became pushing.

“No,” she told me. “Outside!”

She recovered in about a second and a half and was ready again.

I wasn’t.

The muddy clothes came off and into a warm, relaxing tub they went.

Despite the mishap, the combination gave me the results I wanted.

Both Katie and Nikki fell asleep — at the same time — giving momma plenty of time for her own nap.

The hole’s not been filled yet, we’re not ready to bury the cable line that drew Nikki to the bottom of it, but I figure it was a lesson learned from experience.

As the girls grow, get less interested in my advice and more willing to explore on their own, we seem to have more and more of those “learning from experience moments.”

It’s easier on my throat, but hard on my heart.

Christina M. Currie can be reached at 824-7031, Ext. 210 or by e-mail at ccurrie@craigdailypress.com.


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