Tonight was another cold one. It was in the fifties, I have probably been living down South too long when I define "cold one" as fifty degrees. So we started a fire. For any of you who live in colder climates and are scratching your head now, seriously if I waited for it to be colder our fireplace would never get lit. And by "fire" I mean a lone duralog. We gathered round the fire to roast hot dogs for dinner, and s'mores for dessert. Honestly, this might have had a little something to do with me wanting to have an easy dinner. I mean, how often do my kids cook their own food?
We snuggled under the blankets and vegged out with some holiday movies. Except John, he was in shorts. He and Brian must have sludge for blood it's so thick. They are never cold.
The cat even got in on the snuggling action, and John's foot.