when Dallin was little he wouldn't say his "f" or "c" sounds right...he was probably two when he really got to play in snow for the first time..."peezin' toad, Mama!" He's out there right now, peggin' his poor brothers with snowballs. What a punk. Haven't heard any crying, yet, so maybe we'll make it through. I better go get a big pot of "hot juice" ( Michael's name for hot chocolate since he was tiny). Love days off!!!
