Schooled By a Seven-Year-Old

Beloved, the little angel and I clomped down the sidewalk. It had snowed just a little bit, and what was there had already melted, but the air contained that combination of humidity and cold that tickles your nose and reminds me of the Rocky Mountains. I just wanted to be outside in it a little longer, so I whined for a trek down a neighborhood path that winds behind houses and essentially goes nowhere. I knew it went nowhere because we'd been down it before, but we were only a few blocks...