Sneaky little toes drill into my side. Ouch! 
Noah is lying on the couch, a blanket right up to his nose. He’s staying warm as he digests the four berry muffin and warm milk that was his breakfast.
It’s -30 Celsius outside, -40 with the wind chill factor. The heating struggles to keep the apartment warm. Hence, Noah’s attempt to bury his toes into my warm body.
He wiggles those little piglets right between my ribs. Ouch! I glance over at him. He’s smiling under the edge of the blanket. Our fat black cat jumps onto the couch and settles down onto Noah’s outstretched legs. She instantly close her eyes and starts purring loudly, like a badly maintained diesel engine.
Ouch! As his pleasure and comfort grow, his toes dig deeper. I slip my hand under the blanket and take his foot. It’s cold. I rub it gently.
“Ouuuhhh…so good dad.” He closes his eyes and gives me a look of satisfaction worthy of that dog who would float into the air when receiving a cookie… Snuffles that was his name.
The cat leans its head back, prompting Noah to scratch him between the ears.
Cat and kid purr.
I warm his feet with my hands. I remember when they were so small that his fingers and toes were literally transparent. Both his feet held in the small of my palm. I could stare at him for hours. Fascinated by the immensity of nature’s confidence that something so small could grow for decades into a full fledged man like me.
“Dad, could we like skip school, today?”
“No, we both have work to do.”
“But it’s soooo cold and I feel soooo good right now. I don’t want to move … forever.”
“I hear ya. We have at least ten more minutes before we need to move.”
He sighs and slips a little further down into the blanket. The cat stretches and yawns.
“Dad, we could call like my teachers and get the uh, work for today and I promise you I’ll do it this afternoon.”
“That’s a good plan for when you’re sick. But not today.”
Another sigh. The cat opens its eyes just long enough to give me a stare. They’re in league.
His toes are warm now. I slip my hands out of the blanket and push myself upright. That was tough. I move to the kitchen and start gathering his lunch…
Two slices of bread, Italian prosciutto, cheddar cheese, baby carrots, pineapple juice, apple sauce.
Just moving about creates eddies of cold air. I get an idea. Bing!
I gather Noah’s clothes, throw them into the drier and set the timer to … delight!
Five minutes later, the machine buzzes. I grab the clothes and move quickly to Noah. I slip them under the blanket. They’re steaming hot.
“Oh Oh Ohhhhh…” is Noah’s reaction of unmitigated pleasure.
“Quick, put them on while they’re still hot.”
Noah pulls the blanket over his head. The cat meows it’s displeasure and tries to sneak underneath, unsuccessfully.
“Oh-ho-ho-oh yeah….” are the muffled cries that accompany the strange animal movements. When he finally emerges, he stands up on the couch and caresses himself all over.
“Dad, dad, could you like do the same thing with my coat and gloves and uh, scarf?”
I glance at the clock. “Sure.”
Noah breaks spontaneously into song.
“Ooooooohhhhhhh yeah, so sweet and hot, like hot chocolate, like my love for you, oooooohh yeahhhh, like a day in spring, ooooohhhhh yeah…”.
I turn the knob and hit the button and the drier starts its tumble of mercy with Noah’s winter stuff.,,, as my boy continues his ode to hot sweetness.
“Ooooooohhhhhhh yeah, so sweet and hot, like hot chocolate, like my love for you, oooooohh yeahhhh, like a day in spring, ooooohhhhh yeah…”.
On days like this I marvel at my relatively new ability to cherish what I would likely have rushed through not so long ago.
