Wiping noses. It's not funny. Get it? It's snot funny? Ah, well, that was one of my dad's puns. I think of it tonight because my baby girl has a runny nose.

Her brothers were all sniffly last week, so it was inevitable. I still somehow hoped that she wouldn't get sick. Despite the snot, she's pretty cheerful. The baby I watch was here on Monday and Tuesday with a horrible goopy nose--he'd been sick the entire week prior, but thankfully, his mom had vacation days over the week of Christmas. When he is here with a gooey, germ-infested nose, it's all I can do not to spray him directly with Lysol and quarantine him in a closet. I can practically see the germs leaping onto my delicate girl. I wipe the poor boy's nose so frequently that halfway through the morning he cries when he sees me head his direction with a tissue.

But yesterday, he didn't come over because we had an unexpected snowfall. Last year, it didn't snow a flake, so this was a happy surprise for the children. Flakes started falling about 9 p.m. Tuesday night and by morning, the world was disguised in a 3-inch white blanket. The kids were delighted. They ran out to throw snowballs at each other. Of course, all this frivolity ended with snowballs in the face and red ears and tears.

I plunked Babygirl down on the deck, near the railing so I could take a photograph of her and her first snow. She stood with arms outstretched like she was balancing on a high wire and began to cry.

This is not an adventurous child! She was happy to toddle around on the covered patio. She never touched the snow, nor did she want to walk in it.

Today, more snow fell to reupholster the grass in white again. The best part about snow here in Seattle is that it will melt in a day or two at most. And then winter can end. I'm ready for spring.