It's not often that we desert dwellers have the experience of seeing moss on our trees and fences, so when I caught a glimpse of the beautiful bright green stuff while enjoying my hot chocolate this morning, I just had to get outside.
The punk has, not surprisingly, adopted my love of the sweet golden liquid. He calls it "hot hot chocolate," to the tune of Hot Cross Buns. This is what happens to a person who blows bubbles in his breakfast beverage. When the outdoors beckoned, we just slipped some boots over our pajamas and ran outside without bothering to clean ourselves up first.