I went sledding. (I never thought I'd type that sentence.) Sebastian called on Friday night, to say that he and Steph had purchased blow-up sled-things and they wanted to celebrate the snow storm by sledding in Central Park the next morning. Who was I to snow on their parade? So we met at 11am and walked the half-block into the Park. Well...it was a veritable wonderland of children/sleds/dogs/parents/merriment/frolicking. We had a blast. The wardrobing was an issue, of course, as I don't own what you'd call a snowsuit. But I put workout pants over jeans, et voila, snow pants. It was about as cheerful a morning as you can imagine, although we each almost took out a 5 year-old or two. People: after you go down the hill...MOVE ASIDE. Don't just lay there like you own the damn Park. You risk permanent sled-marks on your face. Afterward, we moved on to my local filthy Starbucks for a hot chocolate. It was the perfect winters morn.