Rinsing off the dinner dishes I simply stacked them in the sink. They would have to wait to be washed until after the children and I got back from Christmas pageant practice, I checked everyone's face to make sure there were no traces of our sloppy joe night on them, amid protests that they had thoroughly scrubbed them on their own. After years of checking for dirty faces as part of my mothering job description it's something I find a little hard not to do.
We headed out into the misty darkness with me fumbling for my keys in my purse, and muttering under my breath, "Ain't nobody got time for this." We got into the van and once everyone was seatbelted we were ready to go.
My oldest daughter sat in the front seat next to me, "Don't you just lo-o--ve when it's misty?" she asked.
No, I really don't though I suppose it's better than fog, rain, or snow so it really isn't that bad.
"I just love everything about misty weather," she gushed. "Especially with it being dark and pole lights giving such a nice light through the mist. Even the word misty sounds so sophisticated and elegant." She clasped her hands in her lap with a happy sigh and wriggled in her seat.
I looked around me as I drove down the road. It really did look nice. The gentlest of mists created an extra nice glow around the lights next to the street.
Thanks sweet daughter. Maybe I do have time for this. Your love for misty weather is contagious and is beginning to rub off on me.