My daughter and I decided to go to the hill. A lot of snow had fallen, and the kids had already packed it down, making it perfect for sledding. There’s a forest near our house, and in it, there’s a small but very convenient hill where children always gather. We dressed warmly before leaving the house, but the frost was already noticeable. My daughter ran ahead eagerly, holding her sled in her hands.
When we reached the hill, the children were already having a great time. They were sledding nonstop, coming up with different ways to go down: some were sitting, others lay on their stomachs, and some even tried to slide down standing up like on a snowboard—though that usually ended in a fall and laughter. Some kids tried to go down together on one sled, which also looked funny. Laughter and happy shouts echoed through the area.
My daughter immediately joined in. She ran, jumped onto her sled, and sped down the hill. As soon as she reached the bottom, she quickly got up and ran back to the top. I watched her and smiled, happy to see her having so much fun.
While the kids played, I stood aside with the other moms. We talked about life, household chores, and our children. We discussed how fast they were growing, how soon spring would come, and how many more winter outings like this we still had ahead. The frost was biting more and more, but the kids didn’t seem to notice. They were too busy playing and kept sledding even though their clothes were already getting wet.
After a while, I started to feel my toes going numb from the cold. I wiggled them inside my boots, but it didn’t help. The other moms also started complaining that they were freezing. We looked at the kids and realized that they, too, were getting cold—their mittens were wet, their cheeks were bright red, and some of them were even starting to shiver a little.
It was time to go home. We called the kids, and although they didn’t want to leave at first, they quickly agreed once they realized how cold they had become. The walk home didn’t take long, but during that short time, I felt like I got even colder.
When we got inside, I immediately started taking off my outerwear. My boots were freezing, and my socks were damp. My daughter quickly undressed too and ran off to warm up. I could feel the cold deep in my bones. My toes seemed completely numb.
It took me two hours to warm up. First, I drank a hot cup of tea, then wrapped myself in a warm blanket and turned on the heater. Slowly, the warmth returned, but the feeling of cold still lingered.
By the evening, I started feeling better. I made dinner, and the smell filled the apartment with coziness. My daughter sat next to me, tired but happy after our walk. We ate, and then I decided to watch a movie. I chose Venom—I had been wanting to rewatch it for a while.
I curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. The movie was exciting, and I got completely absorbed in the story. Time flew by, and when it ended, I felt pleasantly tired. It had been a long day, but a good one—despite the freezing cold.
Before going to sleep, I thought once more about how much fun my daughter had sledding, how the kids laughed, and how the frost had bitten through my clothes. Despite everything, the walk had been worth it. I turned off the light and fell asleep, feeling like the day had been well spent.
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