It snowed last night. Not a lot of snow. Not blizzard-style snow.
No, no. Just a light snow. But the Oh So Feisty One is excited and hoping for a
snow day tomorrow even though WNYC says that there will only be a couple of inches and it should turn to
rain by evening.

And then for all the slushy fun.

But for now, the apartment is a-flurry with activity and excitement. OSFO is dressing to play in the snow.

"I’m wearing layers," she assures me and pulls up her jeans to reveal grey tights. "But where are my gloves?" 

GLOVES. The first snow of winter means it’s time to locate all that
winter clothing from last year. The boots, the hats, the scarves, the
mittens, and the GLOVES.

Where did I put that stuff from last year where is it again? It’s
amazing how easily things can get lost in a small, 3-bedroom apartment.
Finally I locate the red duffel bag where I put the family’s scarves,
hats, and gloves. It is under the bed…

Sure, there’s lot of stuff in there. But not one PAIR of gloves.
There are plenty of single, unmatched gloves. Gloves and mittens in
many colors. Some gorgeous ski mittens, hand knit mittens, boucle
gloves, fleece. You name it.

ALL ONE OF A KIND.

What good is that? Impatiently, OSFO goes through all her drawers, all my drawers.

"Why is it that the bottom drawer is always our winter stuff?" she asks.

10 a.m. on Sunday. It is the first snow of winter and OSFO is off
to a friend’s apartment around the corner and I am searching for the street
vendor who sells gloves on Seventh Avenue.

Gloves. Anybody got gloves?