It was a cold wintry day. I bundled up for work in my thick, dressy coat. I also accessorized with a matching scarf, ski head band, and a pair of neutral Isotoner gloves. The biting wind had no chance of going through my clothes that day. Opening the door carefully, I tiptoed out of the house to my car. My husband and children were still asleep. I wanted them to stay asleep as long as possible before facing the icy day.
When my work was complete, I threw on my winter apparel and headed out the door to find my car in the parking lot. My car was miserably cold as I sat inside. I could not wait to get to my warm home. A short time later, I pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. I eased the car door open and then sprinted for the front door. As I put the house key into the lock, I heard a little voice on the other side of the door.
"I open the door!" The little voice shouted.
I sighed and closed my eyes. "Hurry." I called out. "I'm cold."
Son #2 fiddled with the lock on the other side of the door. He unlocked the bottom knob. Then, he reached for the deadbolt. I jumped up and down hoping to stay as warm as possible. "Are you almost done?" I asked trying to stay patient.
"No." Came the little voice from the other side of the door. "Hold on." Son #2 stretched and pushed on the deadbolt. Slowly ever so slowly, it unlocked. Then, Son #2 began to twist the bottom knob. He struggled to turn and pull the door open. I tried to lightly turn the doorknob and help the little guy out. From inside the house, my youngest Son cried. "Stop it, Mommy! I do it!"
"Let me help you." I cajoled.
Son #2 caved. "Alright, Mommy."
I helped him turn the doorknob and then I quickly stepped into the entryway. It was blissfully warm inside the house. Son #2 hugged my knees as I bent down to give him a kiss on the head. "Hi Baby!" I said cheerfully. "How are you?" Slowly, I knelt down and held my gloved hands out to give him a hug. Son #2 started to run into my arms but suddenly stopped. His eyes grew wide as he gazed at my hands. My little baby backed away slightly shaking.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I scared." Son #2 replied pointing at my hands.
I looked at my hands in confusion. There were gloves on them. Could he be scared of the gloves? It's not every day that I needed a pair of gloves to go outside. I peered into his eyes and questioned my young child. "Are you scared of the gloves?"
"Yes. I scared." Son #2 responded. He still would not come near my hands. Finally, I removed the gloves and put them in my purse. I held out my hands so Son #2 could inspect them.
"See." I assured him. "There are no gloves on my hands." Then, I held out my hands once more and asked for a hug. Son #2 ran into my arms. We snuggled and gave kisses. My hands were not scary anymore.