It isn't really the color of the old red sweater that I like. It's faded after all. It feels a little scratchy to me, and it never smells right even after loads of fabric softener. It's the fact that she looks like she's at home in it.
When we go outside in our jackets on cold winter mornings, her bright cheeks match the red of the yarn. That smile under her toboggan hat is wide and covers her entire face. She picks up a snow ball and hurls it at my arms and laughs. I act gruff after being pelted with snow. I run back at her and give her a bear hug. She melts in my hands and the steam from our breaths mingle. This is our time of year. Advent is in full sway, Christmas is quickly approaching and I have the greatest gift ever here in my arms.
I hug a little to deeply and lift her a little to highly. I lose my balance and tumble backwards. My butt hits the ice and she is on top of me laughing hysterically. I laugh too. Not because of our slapstick fall, but because I'm happy.
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